


Grey, Glass and Gold

by liverose



Series: Thought and feeling [4]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Dialogue Heavy, Explicit Sexual Content, Exposition, F/M, Hair-pulling, Monster of the Week, Porn with Feelings, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Romance, Semi-Public Sex, Treasure Hunting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:21:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22808542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liverose/pseuds/liverose
Summary: She did have to chose between two evils, bear the grey with him, or wait till the winds brought him back to Lyria where the sun always shown on them. He would participate in either but she had to chose. He was gambling a lot on that one smile.OrAfter a bumpy start to life on the road, Anima has to decide to weather to return home to the safety of Lyria or join Gerlat and Jaskier on a treasure hunt out among the unpredictable wilds. Where does home really lie?
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Thought and feeling [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1635448
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37





	1. Packed to depart or return

**Author's Note:**

> The relationship / my original character has been pretty well fleshed out in the other parts of this series. You can read them or not, I'm not your mom and my plots aren't so deep that they can't be deciphered standing alone.

Dinner may have been awkward but as the night flowed along side ale nerves calmed and lips loosened. Morning was approaching as Geralt and his brothers swapped war stories, Jaskier and Merigold rated kingdoms they had visited and Anima sat chin deep in the table and watched, enjoying the rare sight of casual conversation. Her study of life in Kaer Morhen was inturpted by the sound of a heavy thud against the wood of the table she was perched on. Drifting her gaze to the source she noticed it to be her bag. She came to two quick realizations, one she had abanonded it with Merigold when she was getting her wraith wounds patched up not giving it another thought and second it was far fuller than she remembered it being. "If you insist on traveling with them keep this in mind. You need to keep your eyes on your companions, your belongings and your suroundings." It was Vesemir who had returned her possessions. Geralt's eyes broke from Lambert's reteeling of a werewolf hunt to ask with a look if she needed him back at her side. Anima's head hadn't even moved from it's resting spot rolling her eyes in answer. She was sure Vesemir hadn't warmed on her in hours but she didn't fear him, didn't need Geralt's protection.

"Aren't those all the things? I've only got two eyes and they can't even see in the dark." She gave a bit of a scoff as she finally lifted her head and placed the bag in her lap to inspect the contents. "Plus this is a bad lesson. I've learned nothing except if you leave your bag unattended, strangers will fill it with gifts."

"They aren't gifts. You packed . . . junk. If Geralt came to his sense and let you be with only what you'd brought you'd have nothing to survive on." Vesemir watched as she leafed through the contents.

\--the day prior--

"Has Anima left?" Merigold had the pitiful bag over her shoulder as she greeted the men in the main hall.

"No she's still sleeping, you've all preached her into a coma." Eskel scoffed from the fireside.

"Hey I'm on her side. I've even lent her some practical shoes and a cloak. If she does take my advice and grows some nerve she'll need more than she's got." The bag got unexpected lift as she tossed it at him.

"Lets see. A jar of . . . air." He placed it on the floor. "A map that makes . . . no sense." His head tilted to read through scratched in edits and inaccurate revisions. "Hey she's got a decent amount of coin" The purse had a respectable amount of weight. "Against nonhumans, never get tired of that read." He crumpled up the pamphlet and tossed it into the fire. "Perfume, some loose die and more than a weeks worth of smalls." That was the last of it.

"No weapons? Not even a small axe or a hammer? No skill needed for those. Hell a nail file." Lambert shook his head.

"Weapon? She's got no flint, no waterskin, no bed roll. What did you have her sleep on?" Eskel pointed out the bigger picture.

"She slept where she slept I'm not her mother." Lambert shot back. "Where are you going?"

"If she willingly followed you for days on end, sleeping on cold rocks along the way she's got something to prove. Vesemir aims to strip her of that. Not having her leave with nothing but a jar of air and Merigold's hand me downs."

"She's already got that in Geralt." Lambert scoffed.

\--Present--

"You'll just slow him down if you don't take care of yourself on the road." Vesemir made sure she was aware this was for Geralt's benefit not hers.

"Are you sure I won't slow him lugging everything not nailed down in Kaer Morhen?" She laced up her new old boots. "Thank you." She stood and in a bold extension of good faith hugged Vesemir. She didn't have the years and willingness Geralt had provided her to win them over but it didn't mean it was a waste to try. After a brief rest and even briefer goodbye as morning started into afternoon they left in the way of Temeria. For Geralt and Jaskier it was more of same, trails and trails that only differed in the slightest ways. For Anima not being tucked away and left behind eclipsed any fear of man eating monsters or grueling terrain that were out of her wheel house. This chance was all that she was asking for but nothing that she was prepared for.

The following day Geralt wondered quite a few things as he packed up camp. How long would they sleep if he let them? He had been last to bed and first to wake but it didn't bother him greatly. Not the way Anima's bedroll, smelling of mildew and Eskel, held her on the otherside of the campfire did. She had already been in a deep sleep when he put out the fire, too peaceful to stir or else he would have dragged her into his. Did he pack enough rations for three? He didn't really know how much Anima ate, she had been more interested in staring at the stars than eating. He looked up into the grey sky, the sun hadn't seemed to have replace the stars. Would it rain today or hold off till tomorrow? Lastly he wondered how longs the bandits planned to plot from the shadows? "We're just passing through." He always tried that line, it never worked.

"Geralt?!" Jaskier woke in a fog as the sound of unsheathed steel pulled at his ears. "Anima! Up up get up!" Jaskier pulled her to her feet by her elbow as their camp grew crowded. She blinked and groaned, standing but only half awake.

"The old bag was right shit weather brings the vermin from the sewers." A nameless bandit seemed uninterested in Geralt or anyone on two legs for that matter, making his way towards Roach with an unseemly glint in his eye.

"I think she was speaking of you." Geralt sighed at the density of the bandit's bravado.

"We out number you nine to one Witcher someone shouldn't get hurt over a horse." A man less foal frenzied had a sword pointed at Jaskier. "They say you are the company you keep. A barker and a bird is all that you can manage to follow you. What does that say about you?"

"I would-" Anima opened her mouth to protest. _'I would say it shows that he's confident in his ability, that he doesn't need eight lost marbles to make up for his faults.'_ But she didn't, her mouth clamped shut with an audible click.

"Roach you've gotten us into this one? I thought you were the one I could count on to stay out of trouble. Is this really all about a horse. . ." As he chastised Roach Jaskier really let the absurdity of the words hit him "You're creepy horse people. . . checks out" He rolled his eyes, no terror or even haste lingered on the sword directed towards him, more annoyed that he hadn't been let to sleep in later.

"Hmm" Geralt went back to closing up camp an eye over his shoulder at the bandits.

"All we need is the white wolf's horse to get the bag's bag." The dolt drooling too close to Roach blathered on.

"Right." Geralt gave him a forceful shove before mounting his horse. "We're going now." More of the same. He weaved in between the bandits slowly and methodically glaring from higher ground as Jaskier packed.

"Seems like extra work." The bard shrugged rolling up his bed roll. "Why not just rob the old woman in the first place instead of getting stage fright in front the big scary Witcher."

"Romantic sentiment Jaskier. Anima grab your things." He wasn't sure how long his sheer proximity would keep the bandits frozen.

"They would have had to of seen her to rob her I doubt the fortune teller's shown-" Exactly long enough for Anima to start her sentence was the answer to that unasked question. There was a blade at her throat. They hadn't raised it towards Geralt, that made sense, he was intimidating but Anima was confused and a bit insulted that she had been picked over Jaskier as the ideal hostage. He was an equally easy target wasn't he? Lingering on the wrong points she didn't flinch when the bandit's arm came around her waist, when the blade held a little harder.

"How would you know that?"

"Let her go." Geralt had been reasonable past reason. He hadn't wanted there to be bloodshed this early. He had figured he would have at least another day or so to not have Anima dangled in danger at his side. He had figured wrong and the anger at the miscalculation read all over his face.

"How would you have known what you knew unless it was a sooth sayer? People don't know where Geralt's going till he's there." The blade was uncomfortable, not enough to pull blood but enough to hitch her breath. More than that it filled her with shame. All her grand standing about being useful, not a hinderance were being sliced clean by steel. She could see the anger, the frustration bubbling through Geralt as he dismounted. His own blade holding fast between the bandit's shoulder blades.

"I said let her go. You won't have her or the horse but you can still have your life." It stood like this for too long to be bearable and Anima started again. At least she could voice her findings, she may be a target but a target that had figured them out, that had to count for something.

"How would you have known we would be here, so far out from humans unless someone told you, sent you on a scavenger hunt. I assure you it's a trap. Sooth sayers are as tricky as DJinn and twice as selfish. You know that right?" What was she doing? Why talk when you can influence outright. She blamed not thinking of it sooner on still being half asleep. That and it was grey, everything was grey, the sky the stone, the fog of uncertainty that seemed to endlessly flow from one bandit to another. "Just leave us alone alright? It's not worth it." Her eyes were glued to sword weilder, ensnaring, attaching to the bandit's skittish emotions. The blade dropped and the bandit nodded.

"You're right." She was feeding into the uncertainty, so heavy handed that he lost his footing stumbling into the earth.

"It's a trap! The witches are working together!" With their leader on the floor pandemonium ensued.

"Fuck." Geralt's hand was forced, along with the blade it held. It was short, pitifuly so, the bandits got no horse, no girl and no stay of execution.

"Anima are you alright?" It was a pointless question, she hadn't moved, not a single inch since the battle if it could be called that had started nor finished. She was not alright, she was the empath not him and when he dismissed fear or pain to be behind her eyes he was at a loss. "You weren't in any danger." Maybe it was anger? Perhaps she blamed him for allowing the bandits to get so close. As she grew smaller in her stance he figured he had guessed wrong. "Anima?"

"I'm fine." She smiled, and that didn't make Geralt feel any better, he didn't enjoy being lied straight to his face.

"Hmm" As he mulled over whether or not it was worth prying now or giving it some time his ears tore him away from Anima. "Jaskier what the hell are you doing?" They both stared as Jaskier turned out the pockets of the bandits a scoff of anger each time he came up empty.

"You heard her right? They were sent here to get Roach in exchange for something worth stealing her for. Aren't you a bit curious what?"

"No." Geralt had no interest in scavenger hunts, less so one's that put Roach on some auction block.

"Bah you're no fun. If Anima is right the fortune teller probably left some riddle maybe even a proper treasure map."

"Are you actually a child?" Geralt pinched at the bridge of his nose, this morning was growing outright absurd.

"What do you think Anima? What do you think the old fortune teller was offering them?"

"Hot air mostly." Anima watched with bizarre fascination how calmly Jaskier pickpocket the corpses. "She probably saw them coming, had visions or heard word of Geralt passing through and figured what better way to get rid of a problem then to send them after someone who fixes problems." She didn't like the thought of Geralt being used as an end to some stranger's means and she had played right into this strangers hand by making sure Geralt had to act.

"No sense of whimsy either of you. Ha!" He pulled out a folded piece of parchment reading over the prophecy that had spurred on the bandits. Waiving it in the air victorious.

"Great can we go now? It'll start raining soon." Geralt grimaced back up at the sky.

"You're not even a little-"

"No." He remounted roach.

"Anima? Hey none of that." Jaskier had been so swept up in the songs he could sing of them finding some hidden treasure that he hadn't noticed the still ghost faced girl clutching her belongings to her chest. "If you pout like that it'll just make him worse. This happens all the time-"

"All the time?" It was making sense to Geralt, slowly. She had only seen him in Lyria and Kaer Morhen, places where Witchers were welcomed, not poached. This was new, this was upsetting. There was going to be more of it, so much more and he didn't know how to explain that to her.

"Reflecting the times, desperate enough to think a group of idiots with pitchforks should try and pick a fight with a Witcher just minding his own business. Don't worry you'll get used to it."

"Right." Anima's mood didn't improve, but she managed half a smile.

"So come on tell me you're not the least bit interested." He bopped her on the nose with the paper.

"Read and walk Jaskier." Geralt prompted their leave of the place.

It started as a drizzle, soft and pattering almost in synch with Roach's hoof steps. Hours past that way till Geralt had got his fill of thinking and planning. "Anima?" He didn't stop the forward trot but slowed enough for her to catch up.

"Yes?" Some of that mixed emotion he couldn't pinpoint had lessened from her gaze but not enough.

"We'll make it to Aard Carriagh in about three days time if weather holds. Then you need to chose."

"Chose?"

"No pressure from Vesemir or Thill or me. I'll take you back to Lyria straight away Anima if that's what you want. The road isn't for everyone. It's safer there." He wanted her safe. She was safe now but that face, the sadness how was he supposed to protect her from that? "Jaskier was right, it does happen often and I-"

"I get it I-" She was sorry, for her, for the bandits for the state of the whole world but sorry didn't mean shit. She stared down at her feet then back up to Geralt. "I'm sorry." It still cost nothing to say. Her hands dug deep into her new cloak already stained with blood and quickened her pace, walking on without another word.

"Trouble in paradise?" Jaskier took the slot vacated by Anima.

"Hmm." Gerlat didn't need relationship advice from the bard, things had not dropped that low.

"You know what would distract Anima from all the pesky guilt she's feeling? A treasure hunt." He had not let it go.

"Guilt?" Geralt had still little to no interest in whatever fortune Jaskier was chasing. "Why would she feel guilty?" Was that the sad emotion he couldn't pin down.

"Well not all of us can fend of bandits with a snarl. Leaving you to look after us like-"

"An injured fawn." Geralt had remembered Anima believing that's what he thought of her.

"Well er . . . sure. I mean I can't say I felt like an injured fawn but-"

"You too?"

"Think about it. How many times has someone used me as human shield between them and you?"

"Its not your fault they're cowards." This line of thinking seemed nothing short of ridiculous. 

"No but as we just had a seminar on, most Witchers don't have charming sidekicks and that's precisely one of the reasons why."

"Hmm" So now he knew the mystery emotion plaguing Anima but he wasn't sure how to fix it. "Jaskier where would your idiotic treasure hunt take us?"


	2. A fine lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything's fine, it's still raining and mutants are still feared, but everything's fine.

They had been lucky to find this abandoned mine by sunset the day earlier. Looking out at what could be barely recognized as morning it seemed as if they would be stuck here a while longer. "Eat something." Geralt tossed a bag of dried fruits and nuts at Anima's feet.

"I'm fine." She leaned her face closer to the fire, she was cold in a way that wouldn't leave her, that tickled at the base of her lungs.

"You were fine at dinner too." He grumbled sourly.

"It doesn't matter how much you slim Geralt still won't let you ride Roach." Jaskier managed to get a small smirk out of Anima.

"How long till the rain lets up do you figure?" She normally quite liked the rain, how it sounded, smelled, felt even the look of it. Now it just added to the grey.

"Noon if we're lucky." Geralt gave a pessimistic grunt of an answer. Being stuck stationary always gnawed at him and Anima's words only agitated him further. She was running, from the grey, from the guilt, from him. "Just in time to skip lunch. Don't worry Jaskier's fortune will still be there." He would not be so easily out maneuvered.

"Jaskier's fortune?" Her head whipped over quizzically, knowing he was getting at something but not sure what. "I thought you didn't care for scavenger hunts?"

"I don't. but I do care about shutting the bard up, that is a treasure I'd travel any length for."

"Hey!" Jaskier may have sneered but Anima smiled. For the first time since Kaer Morhen she had blatenly smiled. This was the ticket, a quest he could accomplish. He had to keep reminding her that she might not be in Lyria anymore and the world was the worst shade of grey but they hadn't changed. The people she cared about, had followed into the rain would not wash out on her.

"And where is this treasure?" The smile wilted as quickly as it came. She could see this for the ploy it was.

"Daevon far as I can tell." Jaskier reread the note he had fleeced.

"Which is . . ." Anima took out her map, squinting, turning it till she finally made sense of it. "Outside of Aard Carriagh. I thought you were taking me back to Lyria?"

"I will if that's what you want. Have you decided already?" Her question jabbed at him harder than either one of them would have liked.

"And what circle all the way back to Daevon? That will take months."

"I don't have any other outstanding obligations." He shrugged. "I'll come back. It'll just take time."

He wanted to be clear it wasn't an ultimatum, he had no plan to leave and never return. It was however a line in the sand. They wouldn't dance back and forth on this for months, she did have to chose between two evils, bear the grey with him, or wait till the winds brought him back to Lyria where the sun always shown on them. He would participate in either but she had to chose. He was gambling a lot on that one smile. "If I go back Fredrick won't let me live it down." She used her own scape goat of choice. "He loves treasure, it's kind of his whole deal."

"I thought tea and inconsistent eye contact was his whole deal. Learn something new everday." Jaskier chimed in.

"He misses out on my first hand account on discovering it and will have to wait twice as long for you to show it to him." She could hear the rambling scolds as if he was already mid rant.

"Think a while longer on it?" For the moment atleast Geralt's gamble seemed to be paying off. "In the mean time can you do something for me?"

"What's that?"

"Eat something." He lifted the bag from the floor and placed it forcefuly in her lap.

"Yes mother." She filtered through the bag picking out a few berries and popping them in her mouth. She leaned her still chewing cheek against Geralts shoulder a small token of apreciation of putting up with her griping.

"Geralt?"

"Hmm?"

"I . . ." She had meant to start her sentence with the fact that she loved him more than anything in the world but the grey warned her against that, as if it would steal it from her. "Have you ever tried so hard to be good at something that you forgot how to be good at being you?" It was a heavy question, it sat there cooking on the empty fire for a good while.

"My name wasn't always Geralt." He had given literally all of who he used to be, name and all to be the Witcher she leaned against.

"What did it used to be?"

"It's Geralt now what does it matter?" It sounded more to the tune of. _'Is this not enough?'_ He wasn't sure either was what she wanted to hear but the truth was all he had for her.

"I want to be a good companion and . . ." She wanted to be cautious and conservative so as not to cause uncalled for trouble or be wasteful of their resources. She wanted to think before she acted, wanted to be in control of her environment. But this wasn't her environment, she hadn't a clue how best to be traveler, she never traveled. She had been good at what she did at who she was because nothing changed without her consent. This was the real world and she could feel that things were bound to change and it scared her.

"It's been two days Anima you're being a bit hard on yourself don't you think?" Jaskier thought she was taking this unnecessarily seriously.

"I know that. I didn't think I'd surprise all of us with my inatate wilderness efficiency." She knew she would not change over night but she would have to change wouldn't she? Nearly everything would have to. "If it turns out that I become . . . not who I was . . . gradually will you still . . ." It wasn't entirely guilt, it was worry in that grey slosh. She worried Geralt had fallen for the confident carefree girl in Lyria and she wasn't that. Not here, she was unsure of her steps here, she was second guessing and reserved. She wasn't sure as time passed the scales would balance out, that she'd be more or less of what she had been. If she went back to Lyria she could preserve that, hold it forever, keep Geralt's love as she had promised.

"Look at Jaskier." And she did, the bard gave a friendly wave. "How much has he changed since you've met him?"

"I'd like to think I've developed quite a bit over the years." Jaskier wasn't sure he liked where this was going.

"And yet he's the same reckless idiot he's always been. People change because they have to. I had to become who I am to survive. If Jaskier had to change to survive, he has enough self preservation that he would." Geralt paused as if to question the notion. "He doesn't have to though. I didn't allow either one of you along because I'd hope you'd become a Witcher's aprentice or mercineries in your own right-"

"But-"

"It doesn't mean you won't have to change your habits. Eat when there's food, run when there's danger, walk in the rain when your boots are wet. Things will be different but you don't have to be different Anima. Just the way you are Anima is. . ." Fine wasn't the right word, infact it was a word he was growing tired of. "If you think you have to be a completely differnt person just because you're not at home . . ." He wanted her to feel at home with him, comfortable to be herself, not pretending to be something he was quite sure she never could be. Did she not trust him to protect her from the world?

"Geralt's a creature of habit if there ever was one Anima. Change isn't on the menu. A barker and a bird might be the only company he can keep but he'll get us all killed before admitting that needs to change. If he likes you the way you are he'll fuck all to keep it that way."

"Hmm." Geralt was about to object but as he felt Anima lean in a bit further into his shoulder he let it pass. A hand wrapped around her waist pulling her closer still. This was home, it would take reassurance and reminding but he was confident, this was home, this was where they belonged.

"I think the rain is letting up some." Anima seemed to be affirming the sentiment because in reality the sky was just as grey as it had been.

The rain hadn't let up but the trio were quickly growing stir crazy in the mine and had decided to press on despite it by the next morning. "Ugh beyond repair." Jaskier stared mournfully down at his mud soaked trousers, a day of travel on overgrown and underused trails would do that, they always did. "I guess this is the gods way of saying green isn't my color. I'll have to find a tailor in Ard, this won't carry to Temeria." Jaskier continued to moan.

"Turquoise." Anima didn't know if Jaskier had simply wanted to hear the sound of his own voice but she figured she'd give it a go.

"Huh?"

"When I look at you I see turquoise." When the world whited out, when she focused, that was Jaskier's primary color.

"So you can open your mouth without starting a fight or a pity party. I'm so very proud of you." Jaskier chuckled, pondering if he could affor enough turqouise fabric for an entire outfit.

"That isn't entirely on me. My mouth only got me in the right types of trouble before you two came along. Then again most were less concerned what was coming out than in." She wasn't above self depreciating humor. A grumble from ahead broke their laughter.

"Three whole minutes that's a record for you." Jaskier had finally come around on Anima, while maybe not his type he could see the only thing keeping the two from being happy was their predisposition to brace for the worst. "So what's this nonsense about going to Lyria? You pester the man half to death to go along and now you're homesick?"

"I think half to death is a bit of an exageration. It's not that I'm homesick. It's just that-"

"Witcher Oi Witcher!" There were people up ahead on the trail. Geralt was begining to wonder when people had ventured so far north. They seemed like ordinary enough folk what purpose did they have out here? Roach stopped a good distance before they reached the group hesitant after her last interaction with humans.

"We're just passing through." Geralt hoped the line would fair better this time.

"The road is washed out you won't be passing through anywhere in this rain. I'm glad to see you're not dead." A bold man breached the distance. "You're more than welcome to camp with us till it lets up."

"See Lyrians aren't the only ones not out for blood. There's plenty of decent enough Thom's and Janis' out there." Jaskier threw Anima an elbow.

"Why would I be dead?" Geralt was less quick to jump on the bandwagon.

"The mob that went after you. Fitting to bring your horse to Daevon. Is that where you're headed? It's a ways off you-"

"Nine men is hardly a mob."

"Not that we are complaining . . . or gloating or . . . whatever it is you're doing." Jaskier jogged up to the meeting, hoping Geralt's prickly demenor wouldn't sour them on the offer of a camp. He was starved for conversation and neither Geralt nor Anima had been in much the mood.

"And you followed them here?" Had the bandits rode from town to town with a banner in toe stating their intentions. "What brings you out into the elements?"

"Well er . . . you. Like I said very glad you're alive and was hoping to contract you before you got off to wherever it is your headed."

"You came all the way out here for a contract?" This still seemed off.

"Wyren a pair of them have slithered their way onto my lands. Think some mage let them lose and forgot to put them back on their leash."

"More likely the mage died, hard enough tethering one beast to you let alone two." Geralt grimaced, why humans felt the need to chain down anything with a pulse baffled him.

"We'll do it!" Jaskier shouted.

"We will?" Geralt scowled, this trip was growing heavy with side quests of Jaskier's declaration.

"Well to be fair mostly you will. Defeat the beasts, be the hero, earn some coin. You do plan to pay him don't you?"

"Aye it's not a lot but-"

"It never is, don't worry yourself." Jaskier shooed away any apprehension.

"So now I'm a discount Witcher?" Geralt had killed dozens of Wyren so he knew Jaskier wasn't pressing for song material.

"You're a Witcher who would do well to show his other half an example of what it is you do." Jaskier was always tweaking and tuning Geralt's perception by others. He figured the best way to palet clense Anima of their rough start was a sure thing.

"Other . . . Oh! Hello there." The man glanced over Jaskier's shoulder at the woman still far off in the distance. "Come on over we don't bite!" He watched as she walked near, painfuly slow in her pace, her face hidden from view. "Would you look at you. You're-"

"Not human. Don't panic I hardly bite." Her smile was weary but genuine as her cotton toned eyes met the man's.

 _'Oh.'_ Geralt hadn't thought of this either. In Lyria everyone knew what she was and she knew how it stood with them. This was more new, possibly upsetting reality. The tolerance for mutants varied person to person.

"Not in the position to care much about that. I was going to say bird your feathers are soaked to the bone. Poor manners to have you stand out in the rain. We've got tents set up under the tree line lets get out of the street.

' _Again with the bird.'_ She touched her nose to see if Geralt had neglected to point out she was growing a beak. "Anima." She stuck out a hand to the stranger, perhaps she had been late to introductions.

"Fucked all my manners haven't I? Quinn. And that's me brother Leo. Cousin Tristan and my son Dain." He introuduced the rest of the group. "Ryia and Ellyen are back at the tents."

"Brought the whole family?" Jaskier was surprised the group would travel so heavy.

"Home isn't safe. News is more beasts fix to nest there, spotted making their way. Had planned on leaving a notice up for you lot to see and camp outside the plot till you arrived. Then the sky opened up."

"And if I hadn't arrived?"

"Then I would have knocked on the Witcher's den. I won't let my home go to the monsters without an honest shake."

"Persistent." Geralt sounded more annoyed than impressed. "Fine."

The camp was just out of ear shot, it had only taken minutes to get there. "You found him!" Quinn's wife Ryia ran up to greet them. "Thank the gods our paths have crossed." Her optimistic smile pierced through the rain.

"The same gods that turned your home into a zoo?" Geralt hated how easily gods were praised for good fortune but not blamed for tragedy.

"The wet clothes have got him in a bit of a mood." Jaskier was quick to apologize on the Witcher's behalf.

"Hmm"

"See?"

"Well you can change into something dry if you got it. Tents are vacent." Quinn was quick to offer.

"Sweet mercy!" And Jaskier was off.

"Come on Ryia lets stoke up the fire they must be freezing." The couple retreated.

"Are you?" Geralt hadn't spoken to Anima in hours and it appeared as if her thoughts were elsewhere, and elsewhere seemed cold.

"Huh?" She snapped back from the clouds.

"Freezing?" He peeled back her hood, her red hair was a soaked and frizzled maroon. The rain didn't bother him, though neither did the wind nor the sun. His body was a walking paradox, intune and aware of every rain drop but unaffected by it in the slightest. He often forgot that wasn't the case with others. He walked up behind her, taking fistfulls of hair, ringing out the water best he could, giving it a slight tug when she hadn't answered. "Or are you still fine?" He ragged on Jaskier for complaining too much but if she planned on keeping mute to the mounting discomforts it'd be too late by the time he realized she was past her limits.

"I'm cold Geralt." She couldn't lie to him when he was this close, they both knew that. Not because she couldn't find the words. No, because Geralt noticed everything, every scent every sound and in the moment with air hitting her bare neck he noticed the shivering motions beneath him.

"Hmm" He dropped her hair and placed his hand at the small of her back. "Come on." He guided her into the tent where Jaskier was on a second set of useless buttons to fasten.

There was a unsavory wet suction sound as Geralt lifted his aromor over his shoulders. "Woah! Whoa what are you doing? Trying to get me killed?"

"Huh?" Geralt glanced to his side, Jaskier had his hands clasped over his eyes. Looking further over his shoulder he saw Anima, mostly bare legs crossed and an arm over her chest in modesty but bare all the same as she rummaged through her bag. "Anima cover up." Geralt hurridly tossed her one of his tunics. He trusted Jaskier, at some times and ways more than Anima but that didn't mean he was fine with his friend seeing her in the buff. If he heard one discription of her skin in one of the bard's songs he along with Jaskier's presious lute would snap.

"What? It's not as he hasn't seen it before." The glare that prompted from Geralt made her hurry to pull the oversized shirt over her head.

"Nope. You're on your own with that." Hands still over his eyes Jaskier shook his head tripping out the tent.

"I forget sometimes that men are so touchy about platonic nudity." She shrugged, still a shiver in her bones.

"Don't bring that up again. You and Jaskier." He walked over to her, holding her to his chest, allowing the fact that it was him she now smelled of cool his nerves slightly. "Please." He knew he was coming off as possessive, sometimes he couldn't help it, his stance, demeanor, tone all leaned into that image unless effort was made otherwise.

"You worried I'll become someone else's bird?" It was very unfair in her mind that he was bare chested and yet still so warm. A cold cheek traced along the line between his pectorals.

"Hmm." He didn't worry so much that she would chose someone else. She aimed to keep him, that threat of her's brought him solice in their long absences from one another. He worried however that someone would aim to keep her, while he could brutishly shrug off the notion with a simple thought that he wouldn't allow it to happen. He'd prefer to have no chalngers at all, he'd rather not battle for her affection. He couldn't stomach someone else thinking she was home. "That word. Does it bother you?" He didn't answer her question grazing knuckles over her back, willing to stand there and force the shivers out of her.

"Bird?" She waited to hear him hum in agrement. "It's a bit odd. Guess it's the same as being called someone's dumpling or charm." She had heard Thill and Janis being called those words respectively. "It's sweet in it's own way. It's nice being anything to somebody. People take that for granite you know?"

"You're not just anything Anima." Geralt knew what she meant better than most. All maner of man and beast alike almost from birth through to death have atleast one other soul that it would matter to if they ceased to exist. Then there were the anomalies, the mutants not born out of love or even species prevervation but manufacuded out of magic and whatever need sanctioned it. There was no inate connections gaurenteed to mutants, they either earned it or more often than not learned not to crave it.

"And I'm not just someone's Geralt. Just you, always you." She hugged him, harder then needed, almost as if to anchor him there, as if there was something more deserving of his attention. "I'm sorry." He couldn't tell if it was residual rain or tears, shivering or stiffled sobs and as she held him harder still she gave him no room to find out.

"For what?" He kissed the top of her head. "If this is still about the bandits, you've gone and stolen my overthinking. I don't view you an injured fawn I-"

"I didn't think enough." She shook her head cutting him off. "I wanted so badly to be with you, to stay with you that I put no thought at all to anything but you. I tend to be selfish Geralt, If I reallt want something I push everything else and pursue it blindly. That's no way to survive. There's a whole continent out here that you know like the back of your hand and I-"

"What do you want now?" His words seemed impatient with her rambling.

"Huh?"

"Inside city walls it's a fine pass time to think of what you would do, how you will fair in the future. On the road your mind can't be bogged down with all that. Thinking of too much means you'll accomplish nothing at all. Just one task at a time Anima. You don't need to take the whole continent on at once."

"Well right now I want to put socks on, my toes are freezing." She was finding it only slightly easier to smile, chattering teeth and all. "Probably some pants I doubt you'd be alright with me just running around camp in your shirt even if it is long enough."

"I would not." The struggled smile was not lost on Geralt.

Her eyes were stuck to Anima, the rest of Ellyen's family might have no qualms sharing dinner with mutants but this young woman surely did. she was petrified, worried they would snatch her up and do unspeakable things to her. Anima could take that fear from her. It would be easy, humans were a brezze by now, no one had to know. _'Though.' A_ s she thought further perhaps this welcoming family would turn on them if they did catch on, knew she had altered the state of their daughter's fragile mind. They'd panic, or she'd have to take the panic from them too. It was possible, she had trained herself to be able to thin her heartbeat out, weave it among a group. _'But then.'_ Geralt would surely notice that, he noticed everything. It would worry him surely. Fear, Panic, Worry she was an empath not a juggler she couldn't manage All three, not for any worthwile length. _'Stop.'_ They had just been over this, too many thoughts about too far in the future.

She let out a heavy sigh, she couldn't do nothing, the girl's stare was fixing to cook her food a second time. "Thank you very much for dinner." Maybe if she smiled she'd seem less scary. "Must be hard cooking away from home. I was hardly good at cooking in my own kitchen." A joke, that would lighten the mood surely.

"You have a home?" Well at least now she knew the girl spoke though Anima hadn't confirmed weather or not she blinked.

"Tsk." Geralt gave an annoyed scoff as he watched his and Jaskier's hard work go up in smoke. The line of questioning he saw coming was sure to upset Anima.

"I do. South and a bit away. Lyria is where I'm from." She'd keep smiling, till the girl passed out in terror or blinked, whichever came first.

"That's far." The blink came first.

"It is, so I can understand being homesick." She was doing her best to be approachable, humans liked approachable.

"Why did you leave? Did they force you out? For you know . . ." Humans always aproached so crassly though, without thought or concern. For a moment Anima felt compelled to feed into it, joke that yes she had been caught steeling fingers from new borns or turning the city's well water to jam. She didn't though, she let out another long sigh and picked up her smile where she left off.

"I left for a lot of reasons. I thought it a good a time as ever. Perhaps if I knew how much it rains up north I'd have rescheduled. I always have a home there, that's always an option."

"Hmm." Maybe not up in smoke but their work was smoldering. She still hadn't chosen and the days till Ard were growing fewer.

"Mostly I left to spend more time with Geralt. He's a wanderer this one." Her head found it's spot on his shoulder. If she was stuck being aproachable so would he.

"Is he your brother?"

"Brother?" Anima's eyes widened, what on earth would give her that idea.

"Ellyen they're a couple. Stop being so rude." Ryia swatted at her daughter.

"A couple?" All the blinks she had forgotten came back to poor Ellyen as the word wracked through her brain. "Witchers don't have emotions they can't fall in love." She stated with authority.

"Anima leave it." He could feel how tight her jaw clenched, could smell adrenilin spike as if there was any fight to be had.

"Funny, thinking far back I used to believe the same of humans." There was a snarl to the smile still pursed in Anima's face.

"What?"

"Humans tend to think love didn't exist before them. It was a word invented to describe the magic of the first human kiss. If I let my memory go all the way to it's begining, there was no love there. Heartless and cold. Worst than any beast before or since that's what I thought of humans." She bit at her tounge, remembering why she hated remembering. All eyes were on her, and all because she had wanted the girl to stop staring. "Then I found my way to Lyria." She plowed her memories to a happier place. "I met my friends, my family. I learned that humans were capable of love. You're quite good at it I'll give you that. Humans love loving if they know how." She added with a chuckle. "Point is people will surprise you if you let em."

"Anima that was almost beautiful." Jaskier matched her smile with one of his own.

"Almost?"

"It lacked poise or poetry but the feeling was there. Almost beautiful." He nodded.

"You don't worry they'll try to pluck out your eyes?" Ellyen asked Jaskier as if that was the only reasonable follow up question.

"Oh for fucks sake. Anima please don't-" Jaskier cringed as Anima shot to her feet fist balled at her sides.

"Thanks again for dinner." Anima was taut and tense and wanted so badly to throw something, but she didn't she just turned on her heels and went into the tent.

"You tried." Gerlat had followed after Anima. He frowned at the sight of her, knees under her chin, arms cletching at her legs knuckles white as she atempted to make herself a perfectly spherical ball of rage.

"I did." She nodded, she hadn't looked up at him, her gaze trying to turn dirt to magma.

"Anima there are going to be people who will never-"

"Yeah I've met my fair share of bigots Geralt. I'm not out of sorts by meeting a young mind tainted by such types." Anima didn't need him to codle her and explain that close minded people would always jeer at them and they needed to stay the higher ground.

"Then what's got you out of sorts?"

"For one you know I have a pet peve about being interogated from above." When her eyes finally rose to meet him it was gone, every trace of the white hot anger simply gone and buried somewhere deep under a lazy smirk.

"Well?" He crouched infront of her, while part of him was pleased to be rid of the scowl, he had wished to ease whatever was troubling her not watch as she packed it away somewhere out of reach to grow and fester. "Anima . . . talk to me." But she didn't speak, now level with the Witcher she took his cheeks in her palms, she leaned in kissing him softly, smiling against his lips.

"I'm . . . I'll be alright Geralt." Her nose traced lines against his unconvinced face.

"Hmm." He was losing his words as well, these days of worrying Anima would leave him had been taxing, this simple nuzzling was a perfect and he was sure a quite deliberate distraction. As she became physically untangled he knew she was tucking herself away from him. Hands drifted lovingly down to tense shoulders, kisses brought her face down, out of sight, warm and tender against the crook of his neck.

"Are you?" Her voice was even and teetering on emotionless. "Geralt?" Not in saying his name though, as it always had and always would it spoke to her love of him.

"What can I do Anima?" His eyes that should have been reading her for a tell shut to embrace her touch. "Please Anima." It was him opening up as she neatly closed off. "Whatever it is I'll-"

"Slay one beast at a time Geralt. Lay down with me, keep me warm. Tell me about the Wryen."

"After I kill the Wryen. You'll tell me what's bothering you?" She hadn't made him beg before, would she now?

"I didn't contract you to kill them why should I have to barter?" She had in seamless motions brought them to his bedroll, curling deep and safe against his chest.

"Hmm." It was a gift and a curse. She had seemed so far away since they left, being close, this close, this affectionate was calming his nerves but past what he should have allowed, past what would leave control firmly in his grasp. "Please." He said again giving another playful tug against Anima's hair.

"Geralt I've never known you to ask to have a talk about feelings but-"

"Your feelings." Grabbing her sides, holding her in place, she was trying to worm herself out of this and Geralt was not too far gone in her touch to allow it.

"If I know by then I'll tell you what bothers me. If you know by then, will you tell me what you want from me?"

"I've never wanted anything from you." It was the easiest sentence to say, it was the hardest to hear. It confirmed all her worst fears


	3. Look a distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some over grown lizards and some under lying issues.

"I didn't mean it like that." It was Geralt who flinched at his words not Anima, she was still nuzzling aimlessly.

"I know." She nodded finally finding a spot against him that suited her.

"I meant that you-"

" I know what you meant." She didn't want to hear it, what she knew him to mean. That he never wanted anything from her because she always knew what he wanted, knew what he needed. She didn't want those words to come out his mouth. She was built that way, made to serve that purpose and she didn't want that to be what kept him, just her crafted abilities. "Tell me about Wryen Geralt, aren't they dragons more or less?" Her voice was small, even a bit scared.

"Hmm." He was caught between two options as he heard the crack in her voice. Pry, her cuddling while nice was not fooling anyone, it was a smoke screen. Something was wrong, had been wrong for days and was only getting worse, she was burying it deeper. He could chip at her moment of exposed weakness figure it out, fix it. His second option was to lean to his strength, she was, even if only superficially, curious about monster hunting, Wyren, he could speak on that with confidence. Even if it was just feeding into a distraction. It addressed nothing, fixed nothing but it would fill the silence, maybe comfort her. If he could get her talking maybe she would let down her walls a bit. "Less." He didn't want her to leave this spot and he was sure if he came at her hard she'd flee right out into the rain.

"Oh?" Her chin dug into his chest as she looked up at him. Her eyes seemed interested, even entertained but that fear that didn't belong over shadowed all else.

"People embellish, saying you've bested nearly a dragon is more impressive than squashing an oversized lizard. It won't take long." He reasoned even if was a royal wyren he could have the beast, trophy and all under a half an hour.

"You don't need to say it like that." Anima gave a scoff.

"What? Disappointed that my life isn't in more peril?" Jaskier always seemed put out when Geralt took the hot air out of the myths of man eating monsters.

"No." She gave a punch to his shoulder. "Like it's a threat. Oh I'll show you Anima . . . I'll kill the beast quickly and efficiently . . . not break a sweat. That will show her. . . Hmm" Her voice parodied his own, low and with long commanding pause. Geralt didn't know quite how to respond so instead he just shrugged.

"You said it not me." He stated flatly. He should have enjoyed this moment it was nice and soft and she was warm and close. Still she was afraid of something, she had been for months now that he really thought about it. No matter how close or how warm he kept her she was still afraid. Even as she let her eyes close, curling in against him, she didn't trust him to keep her safe from what scared her. He watched and waited, till she was lax, till she was off somewhere dreaming. When he stopped watching he started thinking, planning, first about the Wryen but that didn't take long. The harder battle in front of him by sunrise was Anima. How did he tell her that her outbursts off affection needed to stop? That he believed them to be false? That he figured her to be deceiving him? He wanted her softness but he didn't want her to use it to disarm him, to take control. She had been bouncing from reason to reason to hate the road, like she was searching for any excuse. Why? That was the biggest question. Why did she not want to give it a chance? To give him a chance. She loved him, he was sure, this was home, he was confident, she still didn't trust him, not entirely, when he came to that conclusion he was livid.

"Anima!" It was Jaskier who shook her awake with veracity. "Fuck we'll miss it come on!" His eyes were full of anger and dread.

"Huh? What? What will we miss?" She shoved his arms away and stretched her back out straight. "Ugh." She felt off, foggy, she grimaced up at the panicked bard who was scrambling to put on boots.

"Geralt left you dolt!" Jaskier gestured wildly at the tent that held just the two of them.

"Yeah to . . ." She stopped to pinch at some pressure building between her eyes. "Fight the Wryen remember?"

"You saw him leave and you didn't go with him? You didn't wake me?"

"He's sneaky but he's still solid Jaskier we were in the same bedroll of course I saw him leave. If he had wanted us to come he would have asked." Her theory had not changed over the years. If a man chose to leave your bed in the middle of the night, you're a fool for chasing them.

"He never asks. Come on, up lets go! He needs our help" Jaskier wasn't asking either, demanding that they run off and join Geralt against the beasts.

Livid, it was the city state that Geralt had domain over, it ran through every inch of him as he swung upwards at not two common Wyren but three and a Royal Wyren for good measure. _'Fucking nested. What's in this soil? Ore?'_ Normally Wyren staid to the mountains what were they doing at this flat family grounds so close to a populated city? _'World's going to shit'_ It used to be you had to travel for trouble, seek it out. Things were changing, beast were moving right next door. Or was it the other way around? The bandits, the family, all so far north, in a place that belonged to the wild and the Witchers. "Fuck." Getting lost in moral quandaries had been his first mistake. His second was having both eyes in the sky and not one at his feet, mud pulled gravity away from him and he ended sprawled on his back caked in the wet earth. "Fuck." He dodged the beast, rolled out of the way but as one hand darted from his hilt up to his neck he feels it. Blood, his blood, poison from the tip of the Royal pain in his ass' tail. It was burning, a corrosive annoyance flowing with urgency through his veins. "Fuck." His bag was close, but not close enough, he would just have to deal with the pain till the job was finished.

"Geralt?" There was plenty of blood, just the right amount of Wryen bodies but what was lacking was one Witcher standing victorious. "Where is he? We would've seen him if he had headed back already, unless he took some scenic route, that's unlike him though." Jaskier was just concerned enough. He knew Geralt wasn't dead in a ditch somewhere but was worried he had pushed on, found another beast or brute to sink his blade in. These days of sitting in the rain had made Geralt cagey to say the least and Jaskier was concerned the Witcher would fight anything that looked at him cross to satiate the pent up aggression.

"This way." Anima didn't have the eyes of a Witcher, she couldn't see him but there wasn't a distance long enough to keep his heartbeat from her. It shown out to her like a lighthouse in the fog. "He's not in a good mood." It was faster than usual, not flighty but determined thumping a bit past it's usual pace. _'Discomfort'_ It wasn't outright pain. _'Anger_.' He was still livid.

"You say that like it's a revelation."

"Geralt?" Jaskier was now more concerned. The way he was sitting was off, shoulders hunched in and slanted, his gaze was off too, eyes staring off into nothing, but with an unwarranted snarl, there was nothing there to elicit such heat.

"Hm?" Geralt's head lulled to turn to the bard.

"You . . ." Jaskier saw the blood, more concerning than that, the bleeding. Why was Geralt just sitting in the middle of some field with an untreated neck wound. "You're injured." Jaskier bent down to pull away Geralt's hand, inspecting the marred flesh.

"Come on Geralt. We're going." Anima did not care to inspect or ogle. She pulled Geralt's arm over her shoulder and went to lift him.

"Hmm" He rose without much protest. He grumbled as his eyes shifted to her, livid. He had not gone for his bag because he wanted the pain. The pain distracted him and continued to do so as his heavy footsteps took them towards roach. Months, that was what he was lamenting on, livid about. The nightmares in Kaer Morhen, the training that had taken her somewhere dark, the picking at her veins she constantly did, she had never trusted him, not really.

'Which one is it? Geralt? Geralt which potion is for poison?" Jaskier had pulled vials filled with different volumes and viscosity of fluids.

"Hmm." Geralt pushed himself away from Anima, grabbing the correct potion kicking it back with a sour and vocally displeased groan. There went his distraction, there went the pain. "I killed the Wryen." He stated as if the fact had been overlooked.

"Yes we . . . we saw Geralt." Jaskier nodded concern growing. "Very proud of you and all that. Hop on Roach ok?"

"Is this normal?" Anima went to rub away the blood that had found it's way to her clothes, watching as Jaskier shook his head vehemently.

"I killed it!" Geralt was louder more persistent as his gate widened, taking long sprawling strides past roach. Walking as if only to prove he could.

"I . . . Yes Geralt. Are you ok? What happened?" She went to put a hand on his shoulder but he swatted it away with force.

"Killed the fucking Wryen." His words were strained, disjointed and uneven just like his large drunken steps. "Geralt we need to get you to camp I need to look at your wounds." Anima tried not to let it show, her fear, her worry, she was trying to stay strong because that's what moments like these demanded. Her hand grabbed at his wrist and he pulled away from her burning touch. It was working, the potion, he could feel his pulse slow, the blood clot, the pain was going. Then it was gone, he couldn't feel it, another beat of his heart and he couldn't feel anything, if legs were holding him up he surely couldn't feel them.

"Let go Anima!" He snarled, did she really trust him so little she'd take a trivial Wryen wound from him? Did she think him that weak?

"I. . .I don't have you I didn't Geralt I swear." She had not used her powers on him, though as his standing wavered she considered it. "Do you need-" She took a step to approach him and he took a stumble back.

"I don't need anything." A knee buckled as inertia took him forward, he lowered to the ground as a groan of not pain but loss of motor skills washed over him alarmingly. His face hit the dirt with a commanding thud.

"Jaskier find the nearest town, find a healer. I . . . Geralt?" It was her heart that stopped. Was Geralt dying?

His world was spinning and he reached out grabbing at the first solid thing that caught his eye. It was the collar of Anima's shirt balled in his fist. He took a quick survey of his surroundings. He was sweating, he was in pain, he was laying in her lap, he was pawing at her. He let go quickly as a groan choked and clogged in his throat and a cold wave crested over him. "Here Gerlat. Go on squeeze." She placed both her hands in one of his prompting him to have any margin of release of the pain.

"Fuck off." The livid hadn't left, he ditched her hands and grabbed at the earth, letting dirt embed deep under his nails. His spine curled and rose at another crest.

"Geralt what happened? What got to you?" Her voice it was sharp, shrill and ringing, it was scared. But she had never stopped being scared had she?

"I killed the-"

"Yes yes you killed the Wryen I know." It seemed to be the only words he was capable of. "What else got to you? What is doing this?" She wiped some mounting sweat from his brow.

"Ah . . .Gnnn" He groaned and growled, writhing in place. "Nothing." He finally was able to answer.

"Geralt I want to take this pain away. Just for a minute ok? Just to let you breath." She was the one begging and he was the one denying her.

"Don't." He was cold, colder then he ever remembered being.

"Please. Let me help you Geralt, what can I do?"

"You said if I killed. . . tell me just fucking tell me what's bothering . . . what's got you scared Anima?" It was a full sentence more or less, it was something that held his distant gaze for longer than a second so she didn't think twice before indulging him.

"I think we're in danger Geralt." She thought she was in danger, thought she had uncorked something dangerous, something powerful, something that would kill her. She said we deliberately, she knew for better or for worse if she was in danger so was Geralt.

"Is it because I was weak?" That question broke her heart. She remembered the fear in his eyes when he asked permission to not be strong. The fear had festered to anger, he thought she saw him less of a witcher, less of a man, all around less. "I'm not. I've killed-"

"Killed the Wryen, I know I -"

"Men, Monsters. I'd kill the gods if they weren't such cowards." He spat as another churn of pain rolled through him. "And that's still not enough?" The anger erupting from him was alarming but not unwarranted.

"I know you're not weak Geralt. I never thought that of you." She wanted to see acknowledgement in his eyes but there was nothing but anger and ever present pain. "Just for a moment. Please Geralt? You need to breath?"

"Even before. In Lyria that you like so much." When it wasn't crashing it was pooling, the pain tingling in his bones. "You don't trust me to-"

"Geralt it's not a man or a monster . . . I doubt it's a god. But it's not here, not on your battle field it's on mine it's not physical it's where it goes white." She tried to explain what she didn't really understand. The scraps from Fredrick's books, in the dreams that were getting more vivid, memories of what she was made to be, it was dangerous, it would kill her, which would kill him.

"A name. Does it have a name?" His teeth were chattering, grinding then chattering again. "Haven't met anything with a name that can't be killed. You think I won't kill it just because I can't see it?" He was rambling asking questions but not waiting for answers.

"I know you would." She stated with a heavy sadness. "I know you'd rip yourself to pieces if you thought it would save me. Wanting to do something doesn't mean you can, I'm sure fish would like to fly. Geralt I'm sorry." There was no more begging, he needed to breath and he refused to admit that. She focused, honing in on his heartbeat, taking it, holding it, pulling the pain gripping him and making it her own.

"Damnit Anima stop!" He shot to a seated position as he saw the familiar wince pull on her face, a bar maid's body with a Witcher's heartbeat.

"I . . . remember this pain. Wait . . . I really do . . . what was it?" This poison had a familiar ache to it, if she could get over the sensation she could pinpoint it.

"Let go!" He grabbed at her collar again, demanding that he return his heartbeat, his pain.

"I need you to think clearly Geralt, for a moment ok?"

"Give it back." If someone touched something that was his he had always been quick to strike, and he was angry, angry enough that instinct called for it but he didn't just glared hoping his eyes hit hard enough alone.

"What does love mean to you?" Her eyes parried, they were disarming and pleading.

"What?"

"What I'm scared of . . . I know you'd fight it. Grow wings if need be to get you there." It was Archespore, she had taken the feeling of the poison years back, but this was not a prick from a thorn, Geralt must've been dunked in it. She could give the pain back, she figured the cause, Geralt had gotten the air he needed but she didn't let go, she let her bones get accustomed to the cold. "It's not worth bending space and time under your blade for a distraction."

"What did you just say?" Geralt still wanted it back, that was still his primary objective but that sentence hurt worse than any poison.

"I don't cater to the belief that Witcher's don't feel . . . don't love. Trust me I know you do. I know you love me Geralt." He looked betrayed, he looked just as he did in their nightmares, speared right through the heart. "But when I look at you. When the world goes white and I just feel you. It's yellow I see, you're happy to love me, content it's a pleasant distraction from all the grey, all the shit. If that's all you want of me, all you need is a distraction. It's not worth what's to come. Now it's a lot to drop on you amidst the day you're having and I know you're not one to put words to what you're feeling so I'll give you some time but I need to know what love means to you. What you want from me."

"I want you to give it back." He was unflinching, he was demanding, he was livid.

"OK" With a bit of hesitancy she returned the poison's effect to him. "Got anything for Archespores in your saddle bag? I think there must've been spores or pollen or something in this mud you're caked in" She started to wipe at the goop around him with her sleeve. He grabbed her arm, holding it tighter than he probably should.

"I want you to swear Anima." His jaw was tight, in pain and sincerity. "Swear you won't use your powers on me again."

"Geralt I-"

"Swear." His hold grew.

"Fine Geralt . . . I won't. Now will you let me clean you up at least?"

"Pain is a distraction." All his joints burned, juxtaposed to his freezing bones it was agony to stand, but he did. He had sat in that field, hadn't treated the wound, cleaned whatever spores she was going on about because the pain had been a distraction, gave him reprieve from thinking on the fact that Anima didn't trust him.

"So you want to wallow and ache? Just to distract yourself?"

"Seems pretty stupid and selfish eh?" He lurched his way over to Roach. "To want to hurt when someone's offering to help?" He found a rag and began cleaning himself. The Archespore wouldn't kill him, it had already begun working it's way out of his system, getting the last of it off of him would shave off any additional time and damage.

"Scrubbing off mud is hardly the same as fighting off what's in my blood Geralt."

"Hmm. So it's inside you then? What scares you?" He should have just gone with prying from the beginning.

"I . . . I think I don't know, not exactly. Something bad's going to happen Geralt. I can feel it you have your senses and I have mine. I-"

"And what makes you think this bad thing won't happen in Lyria?" Air was coming a bit easier to his lungs, to his brain and limbs. Anima giving his body a rest, time to mount a defense, had helped though he'd never admit it.

"In the dreams it's always a forest I've never been in. I've seen every tree in Lyria Geralt and-"

"These dreams, same a before?"

"No . . . I mean I've had the dream where I've stabbed you since Kaer Morhen but now there's others."

"And in these others?" The lividity was still there he was still angry but if she could just grant him a target for this anger they'd both be saved.

"I'm on the ground, and it's being pulled from me right out of my blood. The enchanted glass they ground down and put in there, that gave me my abilities. Something rips it straight from me. It hurts, hell of a lot worse than poison." She adds with a wry chuckle.

"If it's being taken out, it means someone else wants it for their own. That someone likely has a name." If it had a name then it could be killed, he had already established that. "Simple as scrubbing mud."

"Geralt it's happening in a dream we're not sure if it's a metaphor or if-"

"You could be running us both ragged over nonsense for all we know. I **know** that somethings got you running from me Anima. Twisting you back under it's thumb. I won't sit by and let that happen. You're not a tool to be stripped and crafted. You're . . . " His mind quickly shot to one word. _'Mine_.' But that wasn't right, she didn't belong to him. "You should be able to trust me. I don't like that you don't, it . . . that distracts me."

"Geralt I trust you. I absolutely believe that you-"

"Jaskier's coming." He broke her off before she could lie to his face again. "Don't tell him of your hunch. He'll feed into your nonsense."

"It's not nonsense." She was about to try and explain herself all over again, clearly Geralt had missed some detail but she was paused by the bard running frantically up the trail at them.

"It's Archespore!" He shouted as he grew near. "Home's built over the remains of an Elven, Human battle ground." His face was red with fatigue by the time he reached them. "Would've been kind of em to tell us that the air's thick with pollen after the rain." His hands went to his knees as he took in some sweeping breaths. "Here." From his pockets he pulled an assortment of herbs and roots, some still holding the dirt they had been plucked from. "Geralt . . . eat these. . . healer said it should help."

"Healer couldn't make it into a potion or a salve?" Geralt looked down at the unappetizing medly in Jaskier's fists.

"Well he wanted me to bring him the ingredients not sure what he would've made but I figured you didn't have time. I thought you were dying." Jaskier's concern, just enough concern hadn't waxed or waned in the hours he had been gone.

"I'm not dying." Geralt took a root from the pile and bit into it with a thick crunch. "Thank you Jaskier." It was dirty and tasted entirely of rot and pulp but as it slid down his throat he could feel a warmth begin to pernitrate his cold bones.

"Aard's closer than camp. I say we go to the city, stay at an Inn for the night. Go back for the reward in the morning what do you think?"

"Aard." Geralt paused for another crunch and swallow before turning his attention back to Anima. Dropping the root he took the arm he had grabbed and pushed up the sleeve, relived when he measured there'd be no bruises. "I'm sorry."

"It's not alright . . . but it's ok." She knew that she had pushed him, grabbed him, stole his heartbeat there was only so much restraint even he could muster.

"I don't want you to go back to Lyria."

"Geralt I-"

"I'll still take you, the choice is still yours. I'm asking . . . I want you to give me till Daevon to think of what love means to me."

"What love means to you? Anima why not ask him to weigh the ocean?" Jaskier had no idea why Geralt would accept a challenge that he was not skilled to tackle. Witcher's felt sure, but what was she asking from him? A poem? A proclamation from a rooftop?

"Till Daevon." Anima nodded.

Geralt was the first one to breach the Inn doors, he vaguely remembered this place, he had been here quite a few times over the years. Across the room someone remembered him, and there was no vagueness in how. "And I told you once I heard he was near my lover would return to me. There he is, the white wolf has come back to the den." Legs and arms and lips were around and against him before his still stiff body could react.

"So is this what you get up to when I'm not around?" Anima blinked stupefied at the brazen embrace.

"It's not what it looks like?" Jaskier cringed as they both hung awkwardly in the doorway. This was not boding well for what love meant. 


	4. Inn keeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What good is an Inn if not for a little extracurricular activities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to say that after reading what I've written I can say this chapter's tone was unintentionally influenced by how much I enjoyed Just Add Some Friction by Ennaejj https://archiveofourown.org/works/22775572/chapters/54423472 So while I'd like to emphasize I didn't copy anything I do want to give credit for inspiring this chapter.

Geralt pulled her from his face, ungracefully and by the hair, an oddly sexual whine coming from her as she breaths. "Don't stop on our account." Anima arms folded across her chest had not budged from her spot in the doorway. As Geralt turned to her to gauge how much shit he had just stepped in her face was . . . neutral, a little disqust, a little annoyance, even something that looked bafflingly humored, but all notes were soft and neutral.

"Off." Geralt was prying dangling limbs from him, placing the woman who he must have known on firm footing.

"Geralt you haven't missed me?" Her voice was wanting, not in too desperate a way, just a girlish fondness.

"Mam this happens more often than you'd think. You must have this Geralt confused with another." Jaskier placed an arm over the shoulder of the waify well endowed brunette.

"Oh please!" Anima's neutrality cracked as she keeled over with laughter. "I'd love to watch you go on with this Jaskier, believe me I would. It's cruel to her. This is the Geralt you know . . . very well apparently."

"I know that." The woman scowled at Jaskier who fitted to paint her a fool. "Who the hell are you?"

"Well like she said I'm Jaskier and that over there is Anima, the woman that Geralt loves very much and-"

"Quick question to cut through the bullshit. It's been quite the day and Geralt's knackered. When was the last time you two had sex?" Anima's tone wasn't pointed or accusatory, just concerned enough.

"I . . uh" This poor confused woman glanced from one character to another, then over to Geralt for some clue of what was going on. "I didn't know . . . I didn't mean to cause any trouble."

"No trouble" Anima shrugged. "Just an answer is what I'm looking for. Geralt you can speak I'll take a rough estimate from either of you." Anima figured she was being more than patient.

Geralt looked around the room. When was the last time he was here? When had he bedded her? It had been rainy then too, last he staid here. he had been stuck here for over a week. Had been partial to this girl, she had been warm, and less chatty than others he remembered that. The last time he was in Aard proper had been roughly a year ago there hadn't been warmth so they were not mutually exclusive. It was cold, it was lonely, Jaskier wasn't with him, he hadn't come to the Inn even though the hunt that brought him here had earned enough coin. Perhaps to avoid the temping warmth or an awkward encounter like this. Most nights, most towns were lonely, even when Jaskier was with him. Inns just reminded him of his favorite, of the one in Lyria. Since her Inns were always cold. "Maybe three years back?" He was not confident, but it was an answer that she had patiently asked for.

"Settles that. You only get one happy to see you per town though. I aim to keep you Geralt." The phrase had always been a threat, but this time Geralt heard it as such.

"You are taking this surprisingly well Anima." Jaskier was visibly shocked.

"I was a whore Jaskier. Was paid to have sex with men daily, long before I met you and a year or two post. Being such is what brought Geralt into my life. It would be quite hypocritical of me to scold him for imbibing outside of Lyria. I'm sure. . . " She paused for the previously bold woman to introduce herself.

"Dimia."

"Dimia won't be the last woman of discerning tastes that I will meet if I travel along." She wasn't blind or dumb. She had never imagined that Geralt had been chaste, or at need for companionship on the road. There were those that hated mutants, there were those who could appreciate the craftmanship and there were those who wanted to test the wares. She did wonder why he wasted coins on barmaids, he could bed women free of charge she was sure. She had known and bedded men who were while not equally, measurabley as attractive who preferred working women but that was always because they wanted something more or different. What had Geralt wanted? He had never given her a request that rose a brow. Had she not given into a desire of his? Was there a want he had somehow managed to hide from her?

"Let me patch you up before dinner?" Anima reached out and took Geralt's hand in hers giving it a soft squeeze.

"I'm fine." He was healing up, in an hour's time the cold would fully leave his bones, his temples would stop aching, his teeth would stop grinding.

"The food will wait. Humor me?" Her squeeze tightened.

"Fine." He followed her to the front desk, noting the confidence in her steps that had been missing as of late.

"Geralt?" She was brushing a wash cloth along scratches and claw marks.

"Hm?" The confidence had found her feet but not her voice.

"What did Dimia do for you?"

"Exactly what you think." The response rewarded him with a whip of water and fabric.

"I know that . . . how was it?"

"Anima I never asked you of the men you've slept with. I don't see fit to compare." He had always done his best to forget that men had been on her, in her, for whatever fee that was surely not enough.

"I would tell you if you asked, I have nothing to hide."

"And you think that I do?"

"Did she do things for you that I haven't?"

"It was different." He did not wish to get lashed again.

"Different how?" Sometimes his short answers even rose on her nerves.

"Anima I don't want to talk at length of every sexual encounter I've-"

"Then show me." It had traveled, the confidence had found it's way up to her vocal chords. "If you worry about making me blush with something I haven't seen or done don't-"

"Stop." He turned with a heavy glare, a snort of hot air chased the word. "I said it was different not better. You don't need to constantly remind me of your profession." He wanted to be a man who could say it didn't bother him but it did. She had slept with Jaskier, with that brute Falk and an unknown number of men who's names and faces he had no interest in knowing and she shouldn't want to remember because she was ... _'Mine_.' The word shot to quickly to his brain again, but it was still wrong, she still did not belong to him. He had denied the thought earlier, that she could want another after promising otherwise but the worry was there despite either of their protest, of possible and of past lovers. Had she aimed to keep any of them? Had she said their names in the same way she perfectly called him home. "Oi keeper?" He watched it finally take it's natural resting spot, the confidence finding it's place in a blissfully coy smile. She had been in a state of mental mush when he had gifted her the jam, whose jar she still carried around with her. This time he could enjoy it, giving her something and see her take it with overwhelming appreciation, with love and value. He didn't belong to her, just as she did not belong to him but she'd have him, treasure him and the small gifts and pet names he gave her, she'd keep him.

"Yes Geralt?" He wanted none of his own, just his name, just the way she said it. When an answer didn't immediately come she kissed him. It wasn't entirely soft, he had not asked to be weak. It wasn't entirely rough, they had time, a bed, there was no need to be greedy and savage with her affection. It was somewhere in-between it was tenderly demanding, opening his mouth with her own, exploring and exposing it entirely to her. She kissed along his jaw, down his neck, this wasn't a distraction or a smokescreen, this was purposeful and pure.

"Keeper?" He asked again, it seemed to pass his lips with more effort this time.

"Yes Geralt?" She smiled against his skin and then gave him a gift all his own. She bit down on the place where neck became shoulder, the scales drifted from balancing soft and desperate in favor of the later, she needed him to know, that it wasn't just a name, it was a threat, it always was. No one would question, not Dimia, not Falk, not Ellyen not Lambert or Jaskier. She aimed to keep him. She felt him tense at the pain that wasn't really pain then release as he leaned into pleasure that wasn't enough pleasure.

"Anima." He pushed her off of him, chuckling at the sight of her gaped mouth that slowly closed into a confused pout.

"What?" Her cheeks were pink, not fully embarrassed, a little though, perhaps he had saw this as the wrong shade of desperate, something unbecoming an garish. As she let her eyes set on the red little crescents on his skin she let out an apologetic sigh, this wasn't a gift he could return, just wait the hours or days till it faded.

"Hmm." He let his fingers map out the bite, he didn't appear bothered, nor amused, he seemed curious.

"Are you going to say something Geralt? I won't outright apologize unless I know what's got you-"

"Apologize?" Curiosity grew into confusion as their eyes locked.

"I doubt it hurt you so I know that's not it but perhaps that was a bit too-"

"Jaskier is playing." His head tilted towards the door as if that explained anything. As he pulled a shirt back on, he let out a small scoff noticing the bite peaked through the collar just enough.

"Huh?"

"He normally starts up right around dinner. He likes a captive audience." Why was he harping on the coming and goings of the bard.

"You're hungry?" She had been quite content with **her** captive audience but she checked herself, smiled warmly and let the blush leave her cheeks. If there was a more pressing need she had to allow for that.

 _'Eat when there's food.'_ She remembered one of Geralt's rules of the road. "I'm starving." His fingers were still running and playing against the bite. He looked it, starving, but not for whatever mealy mutton she was sure he was sniffing out. He wanted this right? More of this? More of her? "But I need to see something. Humor me?" He stood with a bit of a grumbled, he shifted and grabbed at the hem of his trousers till he was bearably comfortable.

"I . . . sure Geralt." She didn't question, here at least she trusted him. She stood running some wrinkles from her clothes, pushing a canine into her own lower lip, clamping down on her own hunger as she followed Geralt back to the Inn's main room.

She hadn't even looked for a seat of her own. Why would she when Geralt's lap was there for her, fit better than any aging wood or cracking leather. She didn't gripe or play at the food they eventually got, just ate quite and content. He could feel her bounce, her foot tapping shoulders swaying along to whatever song it was that Jaskier was crooning at lovely ladies. "Hmm." His theory that he needed to see to be sure of had been completely confirmed.

"What? Do you need me to sit up I-" She hadn't asked, perhaps this public closeness wasn't up Geralt's alley, perhaps he was just entertaining her because he was always so worried she'd run off somewhere. Perhaps the way her tailbone was digging into his thigh was uncomfortable.

"It's all Inns then?" He let an arm rest at her waist, holding her where she wanted to be.

"What's that?" Her head lulled back, confident that his broad chest would catch her.

"I thought it was just Thom's, thought there was something in the floor boards. It's not just his though. It's any Inn. you're most sure in bars and brothels aren't you?" His nose brushed her head forward before trailing down the outline of the bones in her neck.

"Well of course Geralt." She ran her hand up along the arm holding her.

"Hmm." He let his eyes close, there was such little fear tainting her smell.

"Just like you are out in the wilds. You know every monster that Fredrick's books guess at. The look of them, smell of them, can distinguish battle cries from mating calls. There's no terrain that baffles you. Looking out at these people, all the nooks and crannies of this place I know them with certainty even though I've never been here before. I know who the maids will bring to bed, who will tip Jaskier heavily, whose most likely to have a poor handle on their drink and start a brawl. I know exactly what to expect here." It made sense, they were two sides of the same coin. Most of the fear and distrust that had plagued her stemmed from her lack of control, lack of understanding. She didn't have a barometer of normal out on the roads, she didn't know what to be weary of because everything seemed out of place. Here, places like this, everything was predictable, she'd sense a threat a danger an abnormality perhaps faster than the witcher himself. There was safety in knowing.

"Hmm." He gave a tug at a grip of hair he had been leafing through. "Would you be less inclined to return to Lyria if I promised to be more thoughtful of the mapping of our travels?" It had been how long? Weeks, months maybe since she had been able to feel in control? He thought it was him she didn't trust and while he knew she would never trust her with the entirety he craved; This skiddish bird she had turned into had been mostly the makings of not trusting herself, her senses, her abilities, she felt exposed and unable to defend herself. He could now understand why she was running. it wasn't from him, it was towards her place of power, it was to her own strength and control. If there was an unknown threat coming for her blood she wanted it to be a battle not an ambush she never saw coming.

"No." She was still swaying, still smiling, she didn't flinch as the tug on her hair grew long, just short of straining.

"No?" Her jaw was long and pert under the pull. She bloomed under his touch, his holds. What would he have to do to convince her to bloom year round, not just in brief springs in Lyria. His hold on her waist tightened, nails pressing firm into her side, letting her feel his weight around her, above, bellow, she couldn't run if he continued to hold her like this. she just went on smiling, she didn't feel trapped, she didn't squirm to get away. A hand rode thoughtfully up along his leg, gripping then sauntering back down to his knee, fingers skipping dangerously within the inside of his thigh. Not trapped, safe, confident, enough so to tease.

"Comfort is quicksand. Doesn't kill you till it's up to your ears."

"Hmm." It wasn't Vesemir's voice he wanted to picture in the moment. He quite literally shook his head to rid the elder witcher from his mind.

"Plus it's not feasible. Inns aren't cheap Geralt and I'm not pulling in any coin. I've saved a good amount over the years but it'd be gone by winter if we were to indulge in bars and brothels every given chance." Their comfort zones might have differed but they were similar in most other ways. As Jaskier had put it, infuriatingly practical. Soon as the proposition left his lips she was calculating the probability of it's merit. She was right though, even if coin wasn't a concern and more than often it was, there were long stretches of the continent that lacked Inns, he couldn't promise her one at the drop of every sun.

"It's good to get sand between your toes from time to time." So it wasn't a catch all but now he knew, how to fix her when they world grew too grey. he couldn't feasibly have her comfortable at all times but if it took a few jobs he would normally turn down he could make sure to not let her strength go dry. "So you know how this whole night will play out then?" His head had long since left the bar, he had something else pulling at his mind.

"More or less. You can't account for everything, but surprises are few and far between." Even he was predicable enough within these walls. She could hear it in his voice, he wanted her, he could feel it in his hold, he didn't want to be soft. "Still hungry then?" She cooed, teased. He didn't let go of her as he stood them, pressing his heat against her, almost too hard, almost bending her right in place. He didn't, his hand staid bunched in her hair still tugging just enough. The one at her waist and side gripped hard for good measure but then finally released.

"Come on." He wasn't dragging, but guiding with purpose but the direction was wrong.

"Geralt?" They were leaving the Inn, they were in a few strides outside. By the time they turned a corner he was dragging, pulling her lips up to his, giving no chance for teasing nips.

"Geralt?!" He had her pinned, hands above her head, back prone against wood that still held residual rain. He stopped, his hold didn't buckle but he did not put his mouth to hers again, did not steal the air from her. There was fear in her eyes again.

"They're just walls Anima. You still have it." This is what he was fit to show her as he knelt his brow to hers. He was still hungry, still starving she could feel the pressure at her hip but he stopped, he waited because inside or outside the Inn she still had it, control.

"You're one hell of a wall Geralt." He was not the only one starving, wanting, she was dizzy with it, thankful to the hold he had, her knees were tepid at best. She saw something light up in Geralt's blown out gaze, a smile curled in his face not out of lust but something else entirely. That nearly tickled smile he got when people momentarily forgot what he was. He would be that for her, if he couldn't bring her to an Inn every night, he could be the walls, be the Inn. They were simple as anything, an Inn and it's keeper. "Alright you've made your point. There's only so much posturing I can take Geralt, lets go inside." There was long laced desire in her voice, she had suppressed it through dinner, struggled through songs, heavy lingering touches were slowly untying her.

"Whose posturing?" He was back on her. His first kiss was soft, promising, assuring her that Witchers don't posture. The second was silencing, she was trying to speak, trying to say something.

"G-" He stole it from her, took his name right from her, he normally eagerly listened for her call but in the moment he was satisfied with just the sounds of breaths fighting against becoming moans.

"I don't think you're convinced." The third, it wasn't even a kiss. His mouth was on her, right against her pulse, it was his tongue, tasting her sweat the burn of her.

"Geralt!" She had been louder than intended, to hear anything over the pounding in her ears. Her eyes had never been wider, her cheeks never redder, every nerve was tight and lose in the same moment. "You can't mean to fuck me here against the wall can you?" As a moment of clarity fluttered in her brain she wondered if he did this with Dimia. Was this the want he had hidden from her? Nothing escaped his eyes, he noticed from his perch at her throat her thinking. He let out a disapproving growl, he didn't want her thinking, just feeling and sweating and breathing.

"I don't posture." His hand left her wrists, a thumb found it's way between her hip and the cloth that held it. "Do you want me to stop?" He wanted it to be crystal clear where this would go if she said no.

"Someone will see us." She hadn't said yes and he was closer still. There was a pride to the roll of his hips against her.

"What will they see Anima?" There was a distorted almost giddiness to the hum in her ear. As if that's exactly what he wanted, him walled around her, her having him and a looming chance that the world could see it and have no fucking say. "Tell me, what will they see?" His thumb made good on it's promise pulling her heat to the crisp night air. She gasped and he ground, hard and imposing against her. Her cheeks were so flushed he thought she might ignite under him. But if she protested, even in the slightest, even subconsciously he would notice, he would stop, she was in control. She had never smelled like this, it was fear and trust all swept into one intoxicating fever.

"I won't be the only one caught with my pants down Geralt." First she just palmed at him feeling how pressed he was against the confines of his clothes.

"Now whose posturing?" There was a pain to this groan, his head lobbing back and away riding a shiver. Now she had him, a hand plunging deep to erase the dirty word. Her hand was craning and kneading, wanting not a stitch of skin to feel ignored by long loving fingers.

They both heard it, the door open the footsteps out the inn. Geralt squared his shoulders and cursed the footsteps he knew as well as his own. _'Jaskier_.' Because if anyone was going to steal this moment from him who else would it be than his one and only best friend.

"Geralt? Anima? Yoohoo?" The footsteps were growing dangerously close. He'd have to stop, while the world being unable to do anything but watch was a titilating prospect, his womanizing, loose lipped bard getting view of Anima blooming held little of the same allure. Taking an ear off, an eye away had been a huge mistake he had given up so much ground without even knowing. She had pulled him out, was rocking him in her fist letting the sail of his ship grow fast and choppy, slick and heady in her palm.

"They'll see how well I aim to keep you. I'm determined Geralt. I love you so." Her whispers and motions teased at every sense with ruthless efficiency. She was sinking till her face was level with his waist. She left a new bite at his stomach, this wasn't for show, for anyone else but but him, a gift to remind him how he was wanted him, how she trusted his resolve. "Their eyes will be jealous. Of the way I'll have you Geralt, only I'll have you won't I? You'll let me keep you all my own?" Without warning her mouth had taken him, tongue and lips testing her trust. Would he betray it? Give up their location by letting out whatever feral noise she was expert at prompting from deep in his ribcage. His tongue corked against his teeth, holding it back. Eyes clenched shut and short frustrated breaths stomped through his nose, a palm found purchase on the wall he had pressed her against. He wouldn't lose, wouldn't falter but fuck if he wasn't close.

"Hm." Jaskier's voice was close. "I hope they didn't run off and have some beautiful adventure without me." His voice was knowing, Geralt was being teased from every angle and once he heard Jaskier's heels turn and the door close he pulled Anima off of him.

He wanted her to have control but he wanted to give it to her, not have her snatch at it when she thought he wasn't looking. Hands hooked under her arms, lifting her, holding her again. He slid into her with an effortless arch. She felt perfectly wanting. Hot and wet like butter melting on a skillet. He let out a muted version of the groan he had held for her. The first few thrusts prompted shocked little gasps as he watched her give in to something new, a surprise turn of events she couldn't have predicted. She placed one of her own palms over her mouth as her eyes fluttered, her gasps tripped and stumbled into hungry moans, she worried she'd be the betrayer. He pulled away the hand softly, gripped at her chin tenderly. "Open for me." Fingers played and pried at her still moist lips. "Please." Again she trusted him, opened her mouth, felling his fingers go further across her lips pet at her tongue. "Good Anima. I promise I'll always be good to you." He had always previously drawn it out brought her to the edge time and time again till he was certain she could feel nothing but want, have nothing but need for him. He didn't have the time nor the concern to do so now. Her hot breath panting out without shame spelled it just as clearly. He pulled away from her mouth before leaning in further, grumbling in her ear. "What will they see Anima?"

"Geralt!" It was a hushed keening whine the fear and trust were peaking, she was at her limit.

"Please." He asks, in a way that's uniquely him, careful and strong. After tossing the question in her jumbled mind she obliges in a way that is her's, trusting her Witcher.

"They'll see you fucking me silly Geralt. See me coming undone on you. See me . . . Geralt-" Her eyes shot open in pleasure and dread and he pounced closing her mouth with his own, knowing as they both rose to completion one of them would betray if he didn't.

Redressing led to silence, silence to thinking and thinking birthed worry. "Anima?" She was thinking too, of what he had to know.

"Yes?" Her smile was still there, still coy and confident, but also contemplative, questioning and . . . embarrassed.

"Did I push you? If this made you uncomfortable I'm sorry I won't-" His eyes shot down to his feet. Had he missed something? Had his Witcher senses failed to notice a small protest?

"I thought I made it quite clear that I enjoyed myself." Her chuckle was soft and comforting, pulling his gaze from scolded at the floor to up at her cautiously. "But. . ." She seemed to word and reword the sentence in her mind. "I'm not sure I would enjoy it . . . often."

"No." She felt dirty, not exactly used but perhaps a bit guilty that she had gone so shameless so quickly. "I promised Anima. Promised I'll be good to you." Had he enjoyed it? Had it excited him? Yes. But he had no inclination to parade her around in the open at any given chance. Moments like this, if it happened again, would be rare. He would ask, careful and strong, she would always be in control, he would not abuse the trust she gifted him.

"And you don't posture do you?" She scoffed as if nothing had happened, before breaking away from their spot, confident steps taking her back to civilization.

"No."

The reentered the Inn as such. "Oh there you are! Where'd you two run off to?" Jaskier gave a knowing grin, thumbing tunes from his lute also as if nothing happened, as if he didn't know. The bard had no super human senses, he hadn't smelled the heat on their flesh or felt their desire in their heartbeat. He didn't need them. when it came to sex in ways you shouldn't, where you shouldn't he had an other worldly omnipotence gained solely from years of practice.

"Hmm" A hand was placed on Anima's shoulder, expecting a tense line of muscle beneath him, expecting to have to apologize for all of it, to promise to fix it, swear Jaskier would never dare to utter a word of it.

"A beautiful adventure Jaskier, pity it was a quest fit for just two." She expected nothing, did not need saving and with a warning smile and a wave she was headed back to the room. There was a distance she was keeping and as always Geralt was noticing.

They laid out on the bed and Geralt noticed the distance even more. She didn't cloak herself in every grabbable blanket, didn't nuzzle at her place in his chest. She was distant, and thinking, hard and deliberate and leaving Geralt to lie awkwardly at her side. "Quiet." He finally stated into the ceiling his eyes had landed on.

"I didn't say anything Geralt." She at least turned to him, cheek on her fist as she looked at him.

"You asked what was different. What I asked of them. . . the others. I asked them to be quiet. Before or after, small talk was fine they're weren't just warm holes to stick in."

"How noble." Anima chuckled.

"I didn't want to hear them during though. A courted woman would take offense at that, you can buy a maid's silence if she's selling it."

"So being a bargain really is the only thing that brought you to my bed. How very frugal of you to lower your expectations for me." She remembered their first encounter. She was brash and cocky, nothing about her implied she was capable of a mute bedding. There had been other girls in Lyria some that were inclined to be mousey and silent, he could have picked them out she was sure.

"I tried to quiet you too." She remembered his shushing pleads years back.

"You seemed pretty keen to hear me outside." Her brow knit in confusion. Was this a trait of her's he was willfully overlooking? "I can try Geralt. I didn't know, if the noise bothers you I'm capable of-"

"You didn't lie." Geralt could tell he wasn't explaining himself fast enough, she was jumping to conclusions.

"Huh?"

"Those who lay, lie." Another one of Vesemir's tokens of advice. "Hearing false praise, forced encouragement . . . sours me." The notion made his stomach knot. "You never sounded unsure that I . . . deserved it, that you wanted me to have you. That I was . . ."

"You deserve the sun and the moon Geralt." Anima cut off the lines of self doubt spewing from him. "Don't let anyone convince you otherwise."

"Even you?" He pulled her to him, breaching the distance, placing her head at it's place on his heart.

"Me? I don't have the voice for it but I'll sing your praises right along Jaskier I always think you don't get enough of what you deserve."

"If you're my sun and my moon-"

"Geralt don't be a sap." She went to pull back, give him room to come to his senses but he held her there.

"Is that why you remind me so constantly? You think I went blind to it at some point? You remind me that you used to be Dimia so you don't feel guilty for keeping me from more? The more that I deserve?"

A mutant was bad enough, but they had standing and stature in some places. Whores only had power and praise in bedrolls. She didn't feel dirty solely because what they had done but because she knew that's who she was, a part of her she couldn't escape. "I don't care for you just because you lay for me Anima." How did he explain from the moment she had said his name, he'd never wanted her quiet again. He hadn't settled on her love because he didn't think he'd find it elsewhere, it was because he knew any other he found would pale in comparison. "Keeper tell me again that I deserve the sun and the moon"

"You do and I'll-"

"And I have her, will be good to her. Give her the whole sky if she wants it, if she still thinks I deserve to be the one to give it to her. It's two ways this street. You could have another, keep another, someone whose more. Could give you more."

"You're enough Geralt." It was a calm and sleepy statement as she was lulled by his heartbeat. Metaphors had seemed sheepish and skirting she hadn't found them genuine and he wasn't sure that he had either. But Anima had a way with simple short words that Geralt never would, she had graduated beyond the levels of grunts and pondering hmms. He couldn't find the effortless phrases that hit with the same punch, scratched just the right itch like she did. His ears buzzed warmly at the long awaited enough. Which reminded him, they'd be in Daevon by tomorrow and he still had to explain what love meant to him.

 _'Fuck_.' he stared up at the ceiling in clueless desperation. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It got a bit sappy and ooc at the end but it fit fine enough in my opinion.


	5. Destiny can wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreams still don't mean shit and cats still hate Geralt, some things don't change.
> 
> This is kind of the end of my introduction arc and I do it the only way I know how pandering to my need for long drawn out dialogue and exposition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do have a question for anyone who might be reading this. Seeing as this will put a non time sensitive pin in this story I was wondering where to go next. Straight into the next angst tornado plot point (my strength) Do some less angst side smut / fluff (not my strength and I'm not sure if I prefer Geralt soft or rough in either of those scenarios) Or if there are parts that I've already written that would fit to have more explanation? Feedback is never necessary but welcomed.

"Jaskier I can't keep pace with you like this." Anima was walking backwards, practically tripping over her own heels trying to face the bard.

"I twisted my ankle Anima you can't fault me for that." He grabbed at the offending joint.

"This is ridiculous." She stopped out right waiting for Jaskier's painfully short steps to catch up.

"Geralt hasn't said anything has he?" If there was any ridiculousness or shenanigans they should have been able to trust the witcher to snuff them out. "How things fairing up there pal?" Jaskier was floundering for him, trying to buy his friend precious time. "Geralt?" He was not in eyesight and that surprised him. It's not that it hadn't looked up from composing on his lute a number of times to see nothing ahead, sometimes after a jog he tried to make look effortless he'd find Geralt. Other times he was at the whim of destiny to have their paths cross again far down the road. That hadn't happened in years though, the straight ghosting, Geralt would always warn him before leaving whether temporary or all together, not always verbaly but there was always a tell. It rekindled an old fear in Jaskier.

"He's probably in town by now." Anima had noticed Geralt's drifting nearly an hour ago when it started. "Hell he's probably in Temaria spending your treasure on some foul smelling blade oil." She laced her arms behind her neck as she continued to saunter. It made her wonder what would Geralt spend coin on if he was flush and frivolous with it. She then decided on the fact she would get something for him while they were in town. The Witcher deserved nice things, to occasionally be spoiled same as anyone else. _'Perhaps a new bedroll.'_ She shook her head, that would serve her purpose along side him, it had to be for him, just for him. "Maybe some new tunics his are getting scratchy with startch and fraying at the edges. What is it you think Geralt would most want?" She let her inner monologue float outwards.

"You to cut him a break." Jaskier reply was quick and flat.

"Jaskier I-"

"Why would you ask that of him? Such a practical man such a theoretical question. What does love mean to him? You know damn well he's driving himself mad trying to find whatever answer will suit you." Jaskier's pace had quickened slightly. "Is it some game you two play? To see whose spirit will break first?"

"I never wish to break him Jaskier. I've been trying my best . . ." She let out an exhausted sigh. "With dismal results, to stay ahead of any break or strain I would cause him. Yet it always comes, always happens. I'm a cloud, an omen of misfortune for him. He bears that because he thinks loving me is worth breaking over. He's happy to love me." Her thought's drifting to the pretty yellow hue she felt around him. "I worry he doesn't know what it truly is, what it's value is. He hordes it because he's unsure if it's the greatest thing he's carried or a crown a dozen trinket that entertains when he needs a lift. Have you seen his pack Jaskier? He's a hoarder, neat but a hoarder all the same. He'd be just as inclined to carry his love for me without appraising if it's worth the weight. That's what I'm trying to get out of him. I'm no sadist-"

"Do you hear yourself?" Jaskier wasn't as angry as he had been at the demand. He saw her point, when it came to her Geralt did get out of character in accommodating to keep her. It did get them in trouble but what maybe she hadn't picked up on is that was exactly how Geralt knew to show his love. Not just to her. How many times had Geralt indulged Jaskier in his own misadventures, saved him from hunters and husbands alike, cursing and scolding all along the way. How many times had roach sought out flusher meadows and been flanked by drowners only for Geralt to cleave anything that interrupted her dinner. Geralt weighed the value of things by how violently the world wished to strip him of them. Because it always did. The world would see Geralt naked and alone if he allowed it, he simply didn't. The Witcher fought up against the current and anything that had the tenacity to stick to him he cherished for having the gal.

"I do." Anima waited for Jaskier to form his next scathing remark. "And you think I'm being melodramatic and frustratingly practical that love isn't something you put into words." She was trying to brace herself.

"Sure you can. I do all the time. Some of my best work is built of the dissection of the word. But I'm a bard, words are a large percentage of my skill and study. You're an empath, feelings are as natural as breaths. Geralt is neither of those things. Words and feelings are the antithesis of what makes sense to him. He uses them, feels them but asking him to marry the two at threat of taking something he 'hordes' Is sadistic."

"So my options are make him suffer outright, or watch him suffer from the side? What would you have me do Jaskier?"

"You know he breaks a lot of bones Geralt. Often when there's no healer around, has to set the break himself."

"What?" Anima wasn't following.

"The settings a sickly sound even turned our unflinchable Witcher's ears green. I play a little louder when he limps or crumples into camp. So he can focus on my singing he hates so much instead of the crunch."

"That's . . . thoughtful of you." She nodded still not getting where the comparison lied.

"It is. Doubt it makes the pain much less. You can't avoid suffering Anima, bones break, that's the life of a Witcher. You can ease the suffering, make it bearable. Loving you makes a lot of the world that's changing around him bearable. He has you . . . us and it doesn't seem like suffering for suffering's sake. There will be clouds with or without you."

As Anima and Jaskier swapped words Geralt had found his way to the gates of Daewon. "You've business here Witcher?" A guard watched as he approached solemn and in deep thought as he fought to find words of his own.

"Wouldn't be here if I didn't" He dismounted off roach as the gates creaked open.

"Well are you going to go in or just stand here?"

"What does it look like?" Geralt hadn't moved, hadn't breached the threshold of the town, he still had time.

"Looks like you're standing in line for the gallows."

"Hmm." About ten more minutes past before Geralt caught the eye of a youngling.

"Hey look it's the white wolf granny's been going on about." While he could've waited forever to enter the town they seemed to be past expecting him.

"See you've still got your horse about you. The idiots didn't nick it like they swore up and down the streets, ran a muck to you too I gather." A father placed a hand on top of the head of a son who had first outed Geralt.

"They won't be returning." He could see there was no love lost between the town and their resident thugs.

"We're a reasonable people. Won't find any other's dense like them. If you're squaring up because you think you'll meet trouble you don't have to worry." The guard tried to make reason out of Geralt's frozen state. Perhaps the Witcher thought he'd meet a mob of people snatching at his reigns.

 _'Shame.'_ Of course he didn't want anyone to take Roach from him, of course he didn't wish to kill any treasure hungry humans but just enough trouble would've been nice. It only took a little, some feather ruffling of a town that had heard what the butcher was capable of for him to be asked, sometimes politely sometimes not, to leave a town and never return. If he had been given such a town, such trouble, he could have bought more time, asked Animia to give him till Temeria to explain himself. She would say yes, she had replenished confidence, enough trust. He hadn't been given that though, instead by luck or lack there of he found himself infront of a town full of reasonable people.

"Geralt!" And Anima was behind him, nowhere to hide now.

 _'Fuck.'_ The feeling of being trapped was second only to the feeling of losing a fight and he felt himself being tossed from one misery to another.

"You shouldn't leave companions so far behind like that, continent's not a safe place anymore could swallow them right up."

"Then I'd make it spit them out." Geralt responded almost on instinct, his eyes dead locked on her as she grew closer. Would her going back to Lyria be so bad? He was letting the sour taste of defeat dance in his mouth. It would, traveling with her, the added headaches had been outweighed by moments that nearly resembled that of a real relationship. They were getting to know each other more over days than they had in years. He was conceding that because he was too dense to explain what that relationship meant to him? He scowled and it only deepened as Jaskier drew near, there was a smug self assured look on the bard, something that rarely boded well for the witcher.

"Geralt. Anima has something she needs to tell you." The guards, the father and son, the growing group surrounding the now long open gates, Jaskier and Geralt alike were all staring at her.

"Tell him . . . right." And she stared back, just a moment at Geralt, he was bracing for the suffering. "Well I was just going to say I've worked up an apetite, was wondering if you'd let me buy us breakfast before we seek out any more adventure."

"Breakfast?" Geralt squinted into the sun, it was long past noon.

"That's . . ." Jaskier gave Anima a hearty shove at the shoulders. "Are you sure there isn't anything else you're forgetting to say, maybe about what we talked about?"

"And what is it that you talked about?" Geralt knew Jaskier meant well but if he was trying to fix this, solve the puzzle for Geralt it would only grow more complicated under his ministrations.

"I just explained what was being asked of you is improbable."

"I'm confused." The gaurd had simply meant to let them pass through not bear witness to couples counseling.

"I think-" The Father made earmuffs over his son's ears. "Think the bird's propositioning for the threeing of em."

"That's not the case. Though if it was I most certainly would need to eat. I'm beat just from getting here, I didn't ride here and I'm in no condition to be rode." Anima gave a sideways glance but little thought to the man's words.

"I said I would do it didn't I?!" There was still time, still minutes to grasp at. They would take the long road to Lyria, he'd save them all at the last second like he always did.

"And you will, I've got no doubt Geralt. But after I eat something please? I realize that it's past breakfast, Jaskier's troubled ankle's slown us down considerably, we should see to that too. Change of plans, find someone to fashion a splint then . . . well it'll be early dinner by that point. Splint, supper . . . then there's still the sooth sayer we came for. Unless it's absolutely pressing Geralt can it wait till tomorrow?" She was stretching those seconds past minutes, over hours, a full day more.

"Absolutely pressing?" She didn't want him to lose. She knew as well as him he hadn't settled on an answer and what admitting that meant. Unless it was absolutely pressing, that fact they all knew to be true, reach the ears of the gods, she could do without. He couldn't win but she didn't want him to lose. He was sure by tomorrow she'd find some other arbitrary yet pressing task to push it farther. She still needed an answer, but at least for now she wanted him more.

"Yes. I asked after all. If you feel ready to respond it would be rude to-" She believed him to be good on his word, that he hadn't stopped trying, wouldn't give it up even with the time constraint lifted. Where Jaskier had been quick to throw in the white towel on Geralt's behalf, to ease the suffering of his friend, Anima had believed beyond what logic dictated.

"It can wait." He let out a breath he hadn't been holding.

"Any idea where this sooth sayer lives?" Geralt turned to the gawking guard.

"Well none of us have actually seen her."

"Excuse me?"

"Ha! Called it!" Anima beamed.

"She speaks to us through . . . well she sends her pets into town, with notes around their collars."

"Pets?" Jaskier hoped beyond hope that just this once pet meant nothing with scales or venom or more teeth than anything had any right having.

"Cats, they turn around and head east. There's a home up there but we've been in, doesn't look like anyone's lived there in years."

"Hmm." Geralt again squinted up at the sky, it would be a long day.

"Now see this plays right into your strengths Geralt!" Jaskier placed two hands on his broad shoulders shaking them playfully. "Tracking the untraceable and scaring the shit out of cats!"

The day was long, full of nonsense and hissing felines, but if any of them knew what they were stepping towards they wouldn't have rushed. Jaskier had gotten his 'injury' treated by a sweet and doting healer, he could have staid there and let her 'treat' him for days, but they left. Anima had gotten them a warm meal, eggs for early supper because why not? Who was going to tell her otherwise? She could have had seconds, it hit just the spot but instead she took just one last piece of toast and jam for the road and they left. He could have put more thought to the notices, think if he'd rather go after a griffon that'd gone rabid or travel far into well known scoia territory just to get honey combs for some woman who would surely die without it. They didn't seem like mundane chores any longer, these were pressing matters that he had to attend to. "You find this quite funny don't you?" For about the dozenth time a cat laced it's way through and against the legs of Anima and Jaskier only to when meeting Geralt's boots, shriek, curl it's spine before backing off in a sprint.

"Not quite . . . just a little." Anima had a hand covering her chuckle.

"Hmm." He pocketed them all and they left. They would do all of them, they had all the time. Him, along with his friend, his lover who both felt confident enough to laugh more or or less right in his face would travel from place to place and he wouldn't have to suffer alone.

"So much for barely lived in." There was a horde of cats circling and hissing around the home, that other than the battalion of felines, looked normal enough to Anima.

"Are we looking at the same house?" Jaskier saw a broken down dilapidated husk.

"An illusion?" Geralt saw the same husk, but smelled the wisps of magic tampering. Perhaps Anima's eyes still held secrets, abilities even she didn't understand.

"There you are." A creek barely was heard over the howling and hissing as an old woman came out the door, a few teeth short of a full smile on her face. "You beauty, you brought them just like I knew you would." She was talking, cooing at roach who took a few paces back from her.

"You can't have the horse." Geralt put a few reassuring pets to Roach's tense neck.

"No I don't have time to take only to give. I just needed her to bring you here and she's done quite well. Come in, come in." The door had on it's own opened wider.

"Spooky." Jaskier flinched slightly but he was close, so close to feasting his eyes on the treasure he was promised. Even if it was a monster or a trap, it was the climax of this story he was truly after.

"Hmm." And they left the bliss of not knowing. It was fully behind them as they breached the door and they had no idea.

"So what is..." Geralt stopped as he watched the old woman struggle to pull up a floor board. "Here." He cracked the wood under a firm tug. He pulled them out one at a time, handling them carefully once he saw what they were. "Anima go outside."

"No." She was adamant if not a bit panicked. "Outside's where the forest is and . . . where did you get those?" Her eyes pulled from the floor to the old women who now hardly seemed harmless.

“The bodies they were buried in” The woman did not seem pleased to admit that.

“Bodies, those hunks of glass were in someone?” Jaskier glanced between Anima and Geralt who seemed far more in the know but what else was new, the macabre and supernatural were more their speed.

“They weren’t that big when they went in.” Anima itched at the veins in her wrist. On Especially cold days, if she was very still, concentrating very hard she could feel them, ground down to a fine powder there was glass likely from the very same mirror, pumping through her blood. Sometimes especially when she bruised, they would clump and combine, compelled by the old magic tided to them, forming a more full piece only to break again in the stream. “I guess they’ll reform when there’s no body of blood left to keep them apart.” Anima stated a bit sadly, wondering if her grave would be pillaged like that in some way. “So you’re one of them? Trying to bring her back? Upsetting the rest of the-“

“I had visions. She is coming back she-“

“She always is.” Anima had met cooks like her before, wanting to reform the mirror in hopes of bringing back a long-fabled god. That was part of the reason she had hid in Lyria, no one looks for more than breasts and beers in a lowly tavern.

“I hadn’t meant to . . . with the corpses.” The woman matched the sadness with her own. “The first I expected to be a mage buried with a small looking glass made of it, the second I thought to be a failed experiment, a mistake-“

“It wasn’t a mistake.” Anima had gone past grief and self-pity, lingering on the edge of anger. It was no mistake, she was not a mistake.

“By the third I was aware. Then I thought that mutations like that surely must be archaic, relics of the past but then I had visions of the living ones. How old are you exactly?“

“The times haven’t changed all that much. What you think to be archaic just gets retooled, tweaked and tried again. I’m less a relic than you.” Anima had no answers for her, no help, no compassion. “Did you go after the live ones? Have your cat claw out their eyes or was that when you passed the buck to the bandits? Was I the first one you’ve seen up close?” Her fists were bunched, boiling with rage. Was this cat lady with visions what she had been running scared from? Was she going to try and rip her powers straight from her blood?

“The bandits were only after roach though. They weren’t interested in you.” Geralt was trying to think with reason but made no attempt to curtail Anima's anger.

"Exactly, I had seen them find you so I sent them to do so. my visions always hold true-"

"So you brought us here to confirm that I'll die to bring back your dumb god?" And rage peaked and crested into a numbing acceptance.

"Whoa whoa nobody's dying!" Jaskier flailed wildly, this was not how his half written ballad ended. "You're not . . . what's this about dying?" He was miserably out of the loop.

"I . . . oh . . . I thought this was what you were after what you wanted." It was now just beginning to make sense why this gift was being so poorly received. "Perhaps not yet."

"What do you mean not yet?" Geralt picked up the jars nestling them protectively under his arm as he believed to know what the woman would say next.

"Well she's got the last piece . . . by the time in my visions, there's a lot in her. And my visions are never wrong-" She punctuated with emphasis.

"Quite the tight fit." Anima nodded, she was walking back, stepping to the door. What did matter if she was inside or out if her fate was already sealed? It had taken long painful transplants drawn out over six years to get this into her, till they had been sure there was no more blood they could swap out for glass without having her die on the table. For what? To lug it around till someone decided they wanted it back? She had lived decades just as a breathing carrying case?

"In my visions you always tell them to do it, to take it from you. I thought you knew why. The world's at the beginnings of war then, but that could be tomorrow or years from now. You do it to save people to protect someone precious-"

"Sure sure." And the door was opening, this was a shade of grey she wasn't sure she could bear. She hadn't trusted herself before how could she do so now? knowing she'd welcome death some unknown moment in the future, for whatever cause she'd eventually view worthy.

"Do you know who she was protecting?" Geralt still held fast that reason overshot vision every time.

"Someone precious to you." She answered as if that was any answer at all.

"And do you know of any other shards? Who has them, who wants them?" He found the first statement little to work with, too vague and misdirecting of a starting point.

"There's a boy . . . er a young man in Temeria, another live one like her. I've heard word of him looking for more parts. Not to resurrect Nehalenia but to increase his own abilities."

"Hmm" So the god had a name, and they had a direction. "Come on Jaskier we've had enough treasure for one day. Lets go."

"You can't stop it but if you hold the most pieces maybe you can delay it." The woman tried to offer some good news.

"Hmm" The door closed behind them with a thud.

She looked better than expected, she wasn't crying or cursing, just wistfully petting at roach a half distant smile on her face. "It's not your fault Roach. I don't blame you for bringing us here. You've done just fine. Can't fight destiny can we?"

"Anima I need you to promise me something." Geralt still with the upmost care placed the jars of glass in his saddle bag.

"What? Not to touch the glass? I've got my fill Geralt, but you know I can't promise that. Her visions never lie" She paused to give an eyeroll. "Listen lets call it a scratch, we gave traveling together a good go. I just . . . I think I want to go home now Geralt. Will you just take me home?" She was tired, she was cold and she was a dead woman walking. Her face that wouldn't look at him was grabbed by the chin turned towards him, she wouldn't wilt and run again. This was just more of the same.

"I have until tomorrow right?"

"Huh? Geralt enough with this. Fighting destiny is a fools-"

"I've said it before and I'll say it again. Fuck your destiny." He leaned in kissing her softly as if to purely emphasize she wasn't dead yet.

"And what of tomorrow Geralt? What happens then?" She tried to smile, she really did but all she could feel was broken glass.

"I tell you what love means to me or I take you straight home those are still the stipulations right? Unless something more pressing comes up. I do need a shave before I head into Temeria It's bothering you I know. I can see it in that sour face." He meant it, he couldn't, or refused to care less about her destiny it had no bearing on tomorrow or the next day as far as he was concerned, as long as he had a hand in it.

"It scratches." She wasn't sure what else to say, her mind was torn between thought and feeling. She thought, knew, she would die but felt like she wanted to go on living, at least till tomorrow at least to see Geralt rid of the awful patchwork growing in.

"Hmm." In a moment as depressing as this he found the time to tease running a prickly cheek against her's.

She looked at him, really looked at him, let the world go white and tried to see what only her eyes could. It wasn't yellow, it wasn't happy, it was hope that Geralt embodied, a gold flickering high and low against the grey. He was hope, he didn't let destiny dictate him but instead hoped for more, for better or worse. Because he could trust he was stronger than destiny so long as he had them. He hoped beyond the reason that he valued and horded more than anything else. He'd never find the words to express that, but that was what love meant to him.

"It's settled we'll stop Geralt from growing into the wolfman. Then unless something more pressing comes about you'll rip each other's hearts out for the fun of it." Jaskier nodded, last to understand the rules. "Here's hoping tomorrow's just as uneventful as today." It was infectious, this hope if you allowed it.

"Is it Anima?" Geralt's voice was soft, afraid she would flee into the woods and never return, a hand fell to her waist, holding her, asking her to stay. "Settled?" It was always the easiest option to give in to what she wanted but not this time, and perhaps not again, now that they knew. If she insisted they take her home straight away he wasn't sure he could oblige. He needed her safe, needed her near, he would have to try again, to make her understand this was home.

"I . . ." She let out a heavy sigh. She was not as quickly convinced to play along. _'There's what you feel and what you think. If you do whatever just feels right without thinking of consequences. Of how it will effect others . . . '_ Was it fair to them? To have the guide her along her own funeral March? Was this suffering for suffering's sake? She didn't trust her wants and feelings. She trusted Geralt though. If she told him how she felt, he could tell her what he thought. "I'd like that . . . but-" She was squirming against his hold, she had never done that before, demanded such space. Just as he predicted he couldn't oblige her.

"Don't. Please." He noticed, he always noticed, she was cornered and keen to run. Words would always fail him. He then did what any creature would do when something smaller and softer tried to escape them, he sunk in his teeth.

"Geralt you brute!" Jaskier again the improbable clear mind went to push him off but it was a futile attempt. The bite was harder than it should have been, deeper and there was little pleasure in the air to buffer it. The pain shot straight from her shoulders to the tips of her toes. He finally let go when he heard the whine of hurt but his eyes shot to her's not apologetic but angry and hurt. The pain was intentional, it was meant as a distraction, giving him time enough to speak again.

"You said you aimed to keep me. You let me believe that Anima." More than a distraction it was meant to be a reminder, of a threat, of her threat. He was angry that she'd break that promise so easily, hurt she seemed unwilling to put up any fight for it.

"I'm scared Geralt!" As she admitted the truth from deep in her lungs, she let the clouds open up, let the tears fall.

"Good." The anger and hurt lingered, but made room for of all things a smile.

"Good?" She always knew just what to say, just what to do to give into wants and needs she always did, but it always worked in such a backwards way with Geralt. As if she was speaking one language and he heard another but his wants and needs were met all the same.

"Not the tears. I could do without those." Again a bit too rough and rushed he thumbed away the wetness. "But I was beginning to think you'd never learn."

"Learn what?"

"To be scared. To allow yourself to be scared. It's important to feel fear, vital to survival. You've spent all this time trying to find a place where you wouldn't feel any fear, that place doesn't . . . shouldn't exist. That's what I want you to promise me Anima, I need you to-"

"Witcher's don't. You said it yourself Witcher's don't feel fear." She was still squirming, but with less adamancy, like there was time, like she was listening, that's all the ground he had gained.

"For me. I don't feel fear for me. Witcher's couldn't be half sane, do what we do and feel fear for ourselves. All the grasses in the world though can't purge us of it, like I said you need it to survive. So it . . . finds a place, projects somewhere else. I fear for you, and Jaskier and Roach what would happen if I'm not strong enough, if I'm too reckless and end up injured or dead, unable to protect you. Vesemir fears for the future generations, who would teach them if he falls? Lambert fears he'll be bested by some beast and Merigold will laugh or sob over his grave, depends on the day. Eskel well I'm not sure he's found his yet but even without someone you put your fears on the job." A sound came from Jaskier like he was going to interrupt but it died on the spot. "Fear for the livestock you're protecting, the daughter who needs herbs that grow in rough terrain, hell even that the pan the woman had sent you to retrieve is full and truly lost. You fear loss because you have to."

"Never heard so much in so little time." She was speaking to how desperate he sounded. It didn't matter, he didn't care.

"Promise me, the second it happens, that you don't feel scared. . . " He would know then, that she would ask for it like she did in the vision. Only those who wished for death, did not fear loss, were not scared. He didn't put merit to visions and dreams but if she told him that, it'd be fact, he did his best work with cold hard facts. "Tell me and we'll deal with it then. I'll protect you from yourself, your blood, your abilities, fuck your will to live if I have to." The squirming stopped, she was still. "Do you trust me?"

"You're one hell of a wall Geralt." She smiled at him, all the trust she could muster on full display for him. "I promise." She beat him to it, seeing the demand forming on his lips at the lack of answer.

"Hmm." And he was appeased, the suffering eased.

"Back to town? Find an Inn?" Geralt wondered if that had taken all the energy and good will she had restocked in.

"I vote yes." Jaskier reminded them he was still there.

"It doesn't matter." Anima gave a shrug the some thought, then a pout. "Though we're out in the woods, that's far and away from someone who can give you a proper shave."

"Really does bother you. Thought I'd look fine with a beard. And there's a griffon out his ways so I-" He gave a grab at his jaw but then felt his hand being pulled away, a lighter touch mapping his feature.

"You always look fine but It scratches. Griffon sounds pressing though. I suppose you should take care of that first." Their day planner was already filling, already leaving no room for deadlines and destiny.

"So what do we do . . . about they pieces?" Jaskier felt a bit guilty for dragging them to this place. "Throw em in a lake?"

"Well perhaps we could bring them to Fredrick when we visit Lyria at the end of the season. He loves old obsolete junk and he can study them instead of asking me for another vial of my blood." As always Geralt noticed, she had said visit, because Lyria was a visit now, here was home.

**Author's Note:**

> For "plot" progression of this story I'd go to part 6 of the series.


End file.
